Return to Gateshead
by RhubarbsMom
Summary: What if an opportunity arises while Jane is visiting her Aunt Reed at Gateshead and she decides not to return to Thornfield Hall, thinking she has no future with Edward? What will Edward do?
1. Chapter 1: Return to Gateshead

Jane Eyre Fanfiction

**Every time I've read "Jane Eyre" or seen an adaptation, when I get to the part where Jane is visiting her aunt at Gateshead I've always had the same thought: If I were Jane, I would not want to go back to Thornfield Hall. After all, why return? Edward appears to be in love with Blanche, it's just a matter of time before they marry, then Jane will be sent away ... No. If I were Jane and the opportunity presented itself, I would not return to Thornfield Hall.  
****  
Of course, that means everything changes ….**

**Chapter 1 – Return to Gateshead**

"_There was no possibility of taking a walk that day_."

The last time Jane was in the small breakfast room adjoining the drawing room at Gateshead was on a cold, rainy November afternoon. Jane had sat cross-legged in the window-seat, the red moreen curtain drawn nearly close, looking through Bewick's History of British Birds. She had been only ten years old, a small, scared child; unloved, unwanted, bullied, ignored.

And now, nearly nine years later, she has returned to Gateshead, which she never thought to see again. Sitting in that same window seat in the breakfast room, now on a beautiful morning in May, a little over a week after her arrival, Jane thought over all that had passed since that time, all the changes in her life. Her years at Lowood. Mr. Brocklehurst. Helen Burns. Miss Temple. Her life at Thornfield. Mr. Rochester.

Jane turned away from the window and looked around the breakfast room. The last time she had been in this room she had been bullied by her cousin John, struck in the head with a book and then dragged, literally kicking and screaming, to the red-room. Although Jane had lived here for nearly ten years, Gateshead had never been her home. It could have been her home, if Mrs. Reed and her children had loved and accepted and not loathed her. Gateshead was impressive and richly furnished, but she had been happier at Lowood even with all its privations because there she had found love and acceptance for the first time in her life. There she had loved and been loved by Helen and Miss Temple.

Thornfield was also impressive and richly furnished, but unlike Gateshead, there she had found a true friend, someone who saw her as an equal. Thornfield was her first true home. Mrs. Fairfax had treated her like a daughter. Adele – Jane thought of how she and Adele had grown to love each other; Jane knew only too well what it's like to be a parentless child, unclaimed and unwanted, and had bestowed all the love and tenderness she could on Adele, to spare her the loneliness and misery Jane had experienced at her age. And then Jane thought of Mr. Rochester – he has been so good to her, so kind, and she loves him so; but he does not love her in return and instead plans to soon marry another. Now, Jane has to face losing her one true home and the man she loves, and start over, once again all alone in the world. Somehow, she has to find another home. But how will she bear it, to be away from him, to be alone, with no one to love...?

Lost in her thoughts, Jane was startled when Bessie suddenly entered the room and announced the arrival of Mr. Lloyd, the apothecary. He has come to see Mrs. Reed. As Eliza and Georgiana are unavailable, Jane welcomes him to Gateshead.

"Mr. Lloyd, how can I help you," Jane said as they shook hands.

"Mrs. Reed's physician can't come today, so I've come to check on her and give instructions to her nurse," he replied, then pausing a moment he asked "Don't I know you? Aren't you Jane Eyre?"

Jane smiled. "Yes, how good of you to remember me. I have never forgotten your kindness to me after the incident in the red-room. You have no idea what it meant to me. Please sit down and I will ask Bessie to bring us tea."

"I'm so glad I could help you; I remember how unhappy you were that day," Mr. Lloyd replied as he sat. "Tell me, how have you been all these years? You were sent to school, as I remember. I have often wondered how you were, if you were doing well."

Jane rang the bell for Bessie. "Yes, I was sent to school not long after that and I received a very good education. I spent eight years at Lowood Institution, the first six as a student and the last two as a teacher. Since last October, I have been a governess at Thornfield Hall, teaching a young French girl. I have been very happy there, but unfortunately, I will not be there much longer as the master is getting married and will send Adele, his ward, to school. Excuse me," she said, then addressed Bessie who had just entered the room, "please bring us tea, Bessie." Bessie nodded and left.

"Is that so?" Mr. Lloyd said with interest. "What a shame that you must leave if you have been happy there. May I ask if you have found a new situation? Because if you have not found one, I know that Mr. Robert Wilson, our parson, is looking for a schoolmistress. We have a small school here for the girls in the village, and we need a new teacher. As you have experience both as a teacher in a boarding school and as a governess to a young girl, I believe you would be very well qualified for the position. Should I tell him to come and speak to you about this?"

Surprised by this unexpected offer, Jane paused before answering. She remembered her last meeting with Mr. Rochester, how she had given him her word to return to Thornfield, to trust him to find her a new situation. But what kind of a position would he find for her? Doubtless as a governess in yet another great house … but now she was being offered a position as a schoolmistress, to run a school herself. This had been her dream, and it would be foolish not to find out more about this unexpected, unlooked for opportunity.

"Yes," Jane finally replied, "yes, please tell him I would like to meet him and hear more about this."


	2. Chapter 2: The Offer

**Note: Although this is a "what if" story, I am following the timeline of events as found in the book.**

**Chapter 2 – The Offer**

The following afternoon Jane was finishing a watercolor when Bessie announced Mr. Wilson. Jane rose and extended her hand as he entered the drawing room.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson; I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And I yours, Miss Eyre. Mr. Lloyd told me about your interest in taking over our little school." He paused as he looked at Jane's watercolor of a vase of yellow violas. "And you paint as well! Wonderful! I imagine you also have musical abilities? I myself play the piano, but only a little."

Jane laughed, "I also play the piano 'a little,'" and remembered playing the piano that first evening she spent with Mr. Rochester and his estimation of her talent.

"Well, Miss Eyre, if this is a good time for you, I would like to take you to see the school and Swallows Cottage, which will be your home if you take the position."

As they walked the two miles to the school they learned more about each other. Robert Wilson was 29. His parents were still living in a town one hundred miles north of Gateshead, along with his two younger brothers. They were not wealthy, but were well enough situated that they could send him to Cambridge University. Unlike Jane, his had been a happy childhood and he and his family were still close. Jane told him little of her upbringing, only that she had not had the happy family life he had enjoyed, but that everything had worked out well and she was happy and well settled now.

Walking along under the trees, Jane often glanced at him as he told her about his family. He was tall, with an athletic build, brown haired and brown eyed. Robert was not classically handsome, but his open, friendly demeanor naturally drew people to him, as was evidenced by how he was constantly stopped and greeted by his parishioners. It was obvious that he had earned their love and respect in the two years he had spent in the town.

As they finally walked up to the school, Jane could see that although it was a simple, one-roomed building, it was clean and well-maintained. Made of rough stone with a slate roof, there were two large windows, one on each side of the rough wooden door. Stepping inside, Jane saw a large rectangular table, with five chairs on each side, two on the far end and one at the head of the table. The room also contained an open bookcase with five shelves holding books and other supplies. The room was filled with light, giving it a pleasant aspect, one conducive to teaching and learning.

"As you can see, Miss Eyre, we have everything you need to begin teaching as soon as you wish, if you choose to take the position. I am more than satisfied that you are well qualified for the post and so the decision is yours. Will you consider … ?"

At that moment they were interrupted yet again, this time by the local doctor, Mr. James. Mr. Wilson asked Jane if she would mind walking to the cottage next door to the school and looking it over while he spoke privately with Mr. James.

Jane nodded in agreement and walked the few yards to Swallows Cottage which lay in the shadow of a large oak tree. Made of the same rough stone as the schoolroom and with a similar roof, it was also clean and well-maintained, with a sanded, well-swept floor. The ground floor room, a kitchen and sitting room combined, was simply furnished with a table and four chairs, a small bookcase which was obviously a mate to the one in the schoolroom and a cupboard with plates, cooking utensils and a modest tea set. Jane walked up to the second floor and looked around the bedroom. Also simply furnished, there was a bed, a chest of drawers and a comfortable, slightly shabby armchair in front of the small fireplace. Against the wall opposite the bed and beside the chest of drawers there was a washstand with a large pitcher, basin and several clean, new towels. To the left of the fireplace, opposite the foot of the bed, was a small closet.

Jane walked back down to the kitchen, sat at the table and, as she waited for Mr. Wilson's return, began to think seriously about her situation.

The day after her arrival Jane had written to Mrs. Fairfax to tell her all was well; Mrs. Fairfax had written back, thanking her for setting their minds at ease regarding her welfare. She mentioned that the house party had ended several days after Jane's departure and that Mr. Rochester had gone to London and was expected to return in a fortnight. It was assumed that he went to make arrangements for his wedding, as he mentioned purchasing a new carriage, although when Mrs. Fairfax asked if the carriage was to be for Miss Ingram, soon to be Mrs. Rochester, he just made a peculiar remark accompanied by a strange facial expression. Mrs. Fairfax assumed he meant yes, but since she still can't quite understand him even after all these years of working for him, she was unsure. Jane thought "I do not know why you doubt they will marry; I do not doubt it; it is all but certain."

Thinking of him marrying Blanche saddens Jane greatly, but she knows she must think of her own future now, independent of him. Yes, she did promise Mr. Rochester not to advertise, that she would wait for him to find her a new position, but could he find her a better position than this one? He would in all likelihood find her another position as a governess in another wealthy man's home – and if Lady Ingram and her daughter Blanche were any indication of the type of people he knew, she was bound to be miserable beyond anything words could express. It would be like going back to her childhood days at Gateshead. To be forced to live with ones who despise you and have no qualms or scruples about showing their utter contempt – can there be a worse fate? Jane thought not. And now that she had spent time living with people who valued her and who treated her with respect, like Mrs. Fairfax and Sophie, and even affection, like Adele, she could not bear to go back to being despised and ignored. Now that she had known someone like Mr. Rochester, who had treated her as an equal and had shown her great kindness. In fact, sometimes it seemed he even had a deep and genuine affection for her…

She shook her head as if to shake the thought of him out of her mind. She could not bear to think of him any more; it brought so much pain along with intense pleasure that it was unendurable. _And it was wrong_. He was soon to be married to another and she must accept it and put any thoughts of him and what it would be like to be with him always, to hear his voice and see him daily, behind her.

Jane forced herself to think about the real future before her and not the ideal one she wished to have. Now then … if she became a schoolmistress she would retain her independence and not be forced to endure constant insults and humiliation, for Mr. Wilson told her that he would give her free rein over the school, trusting that her years at Lowood trained her well as both a teacher and someone who could instill morals in the young girls in her care. Also, she would be living in an area she has known from her childhood. True, there are unhappy memories, but since her cousin John is dead, and her other cousins will leave Gateshead as soon as Mrs. Reed dies, why not stay here? She knows Bessie and her husband, Mr. Lloyd and now Mr. Wilson. If she were to allow Mr. Rochester to find her a position, it could be anywhere in England, where she would be totally isolated, all alone. To be all alone again, not just without the man she so deeply loved, but without even one person who wished her well…

At that moment Mr. Wilson entered the cottage and, interrupting Jane's musing, asked, smiling, "So, Miss Eyre, will you take the position?"


	3. Chapter 3: The Letter

**Chapter 3 – The Letter**

As yet another day without Jane began at Thornfield Hall, Edward Rochester was in his library, staring unseeing out the window. He had given Jane only a week's leave to visit her dying aunt, but she had now been gone an entire month. When he returned from London with the new carriage a week ago he had fully expected to see that Jane had returned to him. He had spent the entire trip imagining how she would react upon seeing the carriage, hoping he would finally ascertain, once and for all, what her true feelings were towards him. Believing Jane to be waiting for him at home, he had felt an intense, ever increasing joy and excitement as the carriage drew ever closer to Thornfield. Every other time he had returned from his travels he had felt only anger, despair and disgust on his journey home because nothing good awaited him there, but now that he had Jane in his life all he wanted was to be where she was.

But when he entered the house and was told by Mrs. Fairfax that Jane had not yet returned, the crushing disappointment which overwhelmed him made him realize that he could no longer go on without her. He had decided at that moment to finally put an end to the uncertainty and claim her as his own. If she said no, then he was determined to use all his charm and persuasive power to win her over. He was willing to do whatever he had to in order to have her in his life always.

While he was lost in thought, Mrs. Fairfax entered the room – and she had a letter from Jane! Putting on a nonchalant air to cover his excitement, he took the letter from Mrs. Fairfax, thanked her, and waited for her to leave before turning his full attention to the letter. He sat at his desk and held the letter, just looking at it for several minutes, enjoying holding something that Jane had recently touched. The letter felt heavy, so she must have written quite a bit. What could she have to say that would require so much paper? Edward slowly passed his fingers over the address: Mr. Edward Rochester, Thornfield Hall, shire. Her handwriting – how precise, firm, sure, yet feminine – just like Jane. Just looking at his name in her handwriting was enough to make his heart race – he loves her so much and is deeply thrilled that she has actually written to him.

He imagined her writing the letter. Was it at a desk by a window, the morning sun streaming on her hair? He thought about her hair and how he has longed to stroke it, run his fingers through it. Or maybe she wrote it at night, by candlelight. He loves the way she looks by candle or firelight – her skin glows, and her eyes shine…

Then unable to bear the suspense any longer, he tore the seal open and began to read.

"Dear Sir:

Please forgive me for not writing to you before this. I am most truly sorry. My aunt died two weeks ago and I have been kept very busy helping my cousins Eliza and Georgiana prepare to leave Gateshead. Georgiana left for London to stay with her uncle and his family; Eliza is going to a French convent. I know we were never close, but they are my cousins and I felt I had a duty to help them in this sad time."

_My wonderful little Jane. To be so kind and thoughtful to people who don't value you as they should. You are so forgiving and generous, it only makes me love you more._

"But now I must tell you something of real importance, something I am afraid will displease you."

'_Real importance?' Displease me? What the hell could it be? And why are you writing a letter and not on your way home?_

"I am not returning to Thornfield. I have decided to remain here."

_Jane! Not returning to Thornfield? How is this possible?_

It was fortunate Edward was seated at his desk because the shock he received was great – Jane's letter was a letter of resignation. Feeling like his heart stopped and trying to catch his breath, he was for a few moments unable to continue reading. When he had recovered sufficiently he read on, frantically.

"I have been offered an excellent position as the schoolmistress of the local village school by Mr. Robert Wilson, the parson, and I have decided to take it."

_No! No, Jane, no!_

"I will be responsible for teaching ten little girls, ranging in age from six to ten. As I believe I once told you, running my own little school has long been a dream of mine."

_That's right, I remember; when I played the gypsy and asked Jane if she had any secret hope for the future, she did say she dreamt of opening a school one day. But I didn't believe she really meant it and would actually take steps to accomplish that goal!_

"Sir, I know that in our last conversation I promised to wait for you to find me another position before your marriage to Miss Ingram, and I had fully intended to depend upon you to find me a new post. However, I must ask you to please forgive me for breaking my promise to you, because this is an opportunity that may never arise again. I must take it. And I am sure when you understand how well-settled I shall be, you will forgive me for acting on my own.

I will be back in an area I know well; there are people here who know me and care about my welfare, so I will not be all alone, surrounded by strangers. The position of schoolmistress includes a cottage, Swallows Cottage, so I have found a new home as well as a new post. I am sure that all these considerations will make you happy for me and that you will support my decision."

_Be happy for you?! How can I be happy if you leave me?_

"Sir, I want you to know that I truly loved my time at Thornfield, which became my first real home, and I will never forget your great kindness to me. I will miss you all very much. Please have Mrs. Fairfax pack up the rest of my belongings and have them sent to me here at Swallows Cottage. And as you can see, I have included little farewell notes to Mrs. Fairfax, Sophie and, of course, Adele, with my letter to you.

I am, Sir, your humble servant,

Jane Eyre, Swallows Cottage"

Edward sat back in his chair, eyes closed, stunned. When the shock had worn off enough for him to collect his thoughts, he began to curse himself. This was all his fault. He had no one to blame but himself for Jane's leaving him. He had completely botched this whole affair. He had acted the part of the lover to Blanche so well Jane was convinced he was about to marry her and had now done the sensible thing and left him. Why was he so surprised – didn't she come to Thornfield in the first place precisely because she had the strength of character to take her life in her own hands and change what had become an intolerable situation? Now that she believed her position at Thornfield was coming to an end, she once again took matters in her own hands and made her own destiny. Ironic, because that strength, that independence, that ability to act without fear was part of the reason he loved her so much. Now it had cost him her presence and perhaps any future they might have had.

He now realized that because he had openly courted Blanche, Jane could never have known what his real feelings and intentions were towards her. His stupid plan to make Jane jealous and fall in love with him – what the hell was he thinking? Why didn't he just approach her openly and honestly (well, as openly and as honestly as he could, being shackled to Bertha) and try to make her love him that way? All he had accomplished was to make her leave him, and he was still unsure of the depth of her feelings towards him. Sure, she valued him as a good and trusted friend, but that had been obvious all along. But did she love him, really love him, as he loved her? Did she want him the way he wanted her? He still had no idea of whether she did or not. Now how could he get her back to Thornfield where she belongs, with him?


	4. Chapter 4a: The Visit

**Thanks everyone for your kind words and encouragement! I really appreciate it; I'm so glad you're enjoying this story. It's so much fun to write! **

**So, Jane has quit! What will Edward do now? Will he give up or will he try to get her back where she belongs, with him?**

**Chapter 4(a): The Visit**

Nearly a full week passed before Edward Rochester arrived at Gateshead.

Once he had sufficiently recovered from his shock at reading Jane's letter of resignation, Edward impulsively decided to take the very next coach heading towards Gateshead, see Jane and demand that she return to Thornfield and marry him. He shot out of the library and ran up the stairs to his bedroom, taking the steps two at a time, all the while shouting for Mrs. Fairfax. Bursting into his bedroom Edward ran to the wardrobe, pulled out the suitcase and then rushed around the room collecting what he needed for his journey. But as he was indiscriminately stuffing clothing into his bag, he began once again to think of what he would say to Jane, how he would ask her to return to him. Edward slowly stopped packing and sat on the bed, frowning, lost in thought. Since he had never been open about his feelings for Jane how could he now suddenly appear on her doorstep and order her to return to him? What would he say to her? But he also could not let her just walk out of his life either ... yes, he would go to Gateshead, tell Jane he loved her beyond all reason, and if necessary get down on his knees and beg her to return to him.

Mrs. Fairfax appeared in the doorway, flushed and breathless from hurrying up the stairs from the kitchen, and stared, astonished, at the mess in the room. "Sir! What's wrong?"

Looking up, Edward sharply replied, "I'm leaving for several days, Mrs. Fairfax. Tell John I need the coach to take me to Millcote immediately."

"But sir, have you forgotten? You have important company arriving in a few hours: Mr. Eshton, the local member of Parliament and his wife, and several others ..."

"Deuce take it, Mrs. Fairfax! Simply tell them I had to leave immediately!"

"But sir … excuse me … but sir, you specifically requested that we prepare a special dinner for your guests because of their importance ... forgive me for being forward, but.…" Afraid to continue, Mrs. Fairfax paused and waited for him to speak.

Edward closed his eyes, dropped his head and slowly sighed.

"You're right, Mrs. Fairfax. I can't leave today. Continue with your preparations. Please forgive my outburst." He looked up at her and continued, "Oh, and by the way, Miss Eyre has resigned by letter. On my desk there are goodbye notes to you, Sophie and Adele."

"Miss Eyre?! Resigned?! But why, sir?"

"Mrs. Fairfax, please …" Edward paused, rubbed his forehead with his left hand and slowly exhaled in an attempt to control his temper. "Please just go and read her letter to you and give Sophie and Adele their letters. Please leave me now."

Without another word Mrs. Fairfax quickly left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

The dinner party was interminable. Edward began to believe he had died and been condemned to an eternity of an endless evening of meaningless chitchat. Somehow Dante had neglected to mention this special circle of hell. It took all of his self-control to play the role of the charming host and not throw everyone out so he could go to Jane. When the dinner was finally over and his guests had been shown their rooms, he locked himself in his study. At first he restlessly paced backwards and forwards, rubbing his temples and his face and then, calmer, sat staring unseeing at the fire as he slowly drank his well-deserved brandy. He consoled himself by remembering that although his guests had delayed his departure they were to leave in the morning. Then he would be free to go to Jane.

At least that was his plan.

Just as his guests were leaving both his solicitor and his estate agent showed up. Edward had completely forgotten that the men were due to arrive that day. There was urgent business regarding several of his far-flung properties that had to be dealt with immediately, as well as much correspondence from his bankers that needed to be answered. So, instead of sitting in the coach to Gateshead, Edward found himself sitting at his desk, working. By the time night had fallen Edward found himself still at Thornfield, angry and frustrated and nowhere near finished. It took almost all of the next two days for the work to be completed. Edward thought he would go mad at the delay.

Finally, very early on the fourth day after receiving Jane's letter, Edward boarded the coach to Gateshead. The journey would have been tedious under any circumstances – fifty miles the first day, a night at an inn, then another fifty miles – but with all the anger, frustration and fear he had been dealing with since receiving Jane's letter, it was all he could do to sit still in the coach. The perpetual scowl on his face kept the other passengers from speaking to him so he was free to dwell on his thoughts without interruption. He mentally replayed all the hours of conversation he had enjoyed with Jane and when he allowed himself to think of how he might be deprived of her company forever the fear which gripped his heart made it difficult to breathe.

The coach arrived at Gateshead in the early evening. Leaving his luggage at the inn, he asked for directions to Swallows Cottage. The cottage was easy to find, a quiet 15 minute walk from the inn. Edward began to rehearse, for the umpteenth time, what he would say to Jane when he finally saw her. When he reached the cottage he hesitated before the door for several long moments, took a deep breath and then knocked. When there was no response he knocked again, louder. Again, no response. Just as was about to knock for a third time, a little girl skipping by sang out, "Miss Eyre's not home. She's gone far, far away." Astonished, Edward spun around, glared at the child and exclaimed "Gone! Where has she gone to?" Frightened by his rough tone of voice and scowling face, the little girl yelled "Ask Mr. Wilson, he knows!" and ran off. Since the little girl disappeared before Edward could ask her where Wilson lived, he had no choice but to walk back to the inn, even more exasperated than before, to ask for directions.


	5. Chapter 4b: The Visit

**Chapter 4(b) – The Visit**

Upon answering his door, Robert Wilson was surprised to see a stranger, a gentleman, and not the parishioner he was expecting. The quality of the man's clothes and his bearing declared him to be wealthy, and when he spoke, his well-accented, deep voice made it obvious he was also educated and well-bred.

"Mr. Wilson? I'm Edward Rochester. I'm here to talk to you about a young lady, Miss Jane Eyre."

Wilson introduced himself then ushered his guest into his study, offered him a seat, sat behind his desk and waited for Edward to begin.

"Mr. Wilson, I'm Jane's, I mean Miss Eyre's, former employer. I was passing through this area on my way to a friend's estate and wanted to see Miss Eyre, to make sure she is well settled and give her her remaining salary. I was informed that she is not here and that you would know where she is and when she will return."

"Well, Mr. Rochester, I'm pleased to meet you. Yes, I know Miss Eyre, quite well in fact. It was I who offered her the position of schoolmistress. I'm afraid you just missed seeing her. Miss Eyre left just this morning to visit her uncle's solicitor, a Mr. Briggs, in London. She may be gone for a week."

For a brief moment, Edward's face registered disappointment and alarm, then became neutral. "London? To visit her uncle's solicitor? Why, may I ask?"

"Miss Eyre went to see Mr. Briggs to establish her identity. It appears that she is to inherit a great deal of money soon. Her uncle is very ill and is determined to leave her his fortune."

Struggling to control his emotions, Edward quickly asked, "But how is this possible? She told me her aunt, who was dying, had cast her off. And her uncle died many years ago …"

"This is another uncle, Mr. John Eyre, a merchant living in Madeira. Apparently, he wrote to Mrs. Reed three years ago and asked about Miss Eyre. He wanted to adopt her, now that he was wealthy, but was told by Mrs. Reed that Miss Eyre had died of the typhus fever at Lowood. Miss Eyre explained to me that her aunt loathed her and told her she did not want to help Miss Eyre improve her station in life, so she told that malicious lie. But as she was dying, Mrs. Reed's conscience forced her to call for her niece and give her Mr. Eyre's letter. Once Miss Eyre decided to remain here, she wrote to her uncle to inform him that she was very much alive, and quickly received a reply, telling her to go see his solicitor in London as soon as possible. She also learned that she has more family, cousins. There is a St. John Rivers, a clergyman, and his two sisters, Mary and Diana. They are also governesses."

Edward suddenly stood up, paced back and forth and then just as suddenly sat down again as he struggled to absorb all this information, with an expression on his face that Wilson was unable to read. "So Jane is now wealthy. And she's no longer all alone in the world," he muttered to himself. Edward then looked up at Wilson and asked, "So, tell me, how is Miss Eyre doing in her new position and her new home? Is she happy here? I wanted to make sure she is safe and comfortable and has everything she needs."

Robert Wilson looked at Edward curiously and wondered, "Why is he so concerned about his ex-governess? A man in his station usually couldn't care less about his servants' welfare." Then he replied, "Yes, she's happy here. She loves her new position. In fact, she promised to continue teaching for the remainder of the school year. Then she will think about what to do with her new-found wealth. Miss Eyre's a remarkable young woman: intelligent, kind, talented, dedicated … I must admit I have never met anyone like her. Did you know she is an artist? She painted that beautiful watercolor hanging by the fireplace to thank me for giving her the position of schoolmistress."

"Yes, Miss Eyre is quite remarkable," Edward agreed while staring very intently at Wilson, a grim expression on his face. "Well, since she's not here, I would like to write her a note, enclose her wages and leave it with you."

"Yes, of course. Please feel free to use my desk. I'll get you a cup of tea in the meantime."

As soon as Wilson left the room Edward went to the desk, sat down, and with his elbows resting on the desk, put his face in his hands and sighed deeply. When he had recovered his composure, he began to write.

_Dear Miss Eyre:_

_As I was passing by on my way to visit a friend's estate, I came to see your new situation, to make sure you will be safe and comfortable. Unfortunately, you were not here, so I am leaving this note with Mr. Wilson, along with the salary I still owe you._

_Please allow me to tell you how much I appreciate all your hard work teaching Adele. She has made much progress with you. Although there is to be no marriage between Blanche and me, I have decided to go through with my plan to send Adele to school and will begin looking for one. She misses you very much and I know she will be happy to hear from you, so please write to her again soon._

_If you need a reference or if there is anything else I can do for you, please do not hesitate to contact me at once._

_Once again, thank you, and please accept my best wishes for your continued good health and happiness._

_Edward Rochester_

As Edward was sealing up the letter, Wilson re-appeared with the tea tray. The two men drank their tea in silence, then Edward thanked Wilson for his hospitality and prepared to leave. As he was walking out the front door, Edward hesitated, then turned to face Wilson and said, "If Miss Eyre ever needs any help … if there is ever anything I can do for her … please do not hesitate to contact me at Thornfield Hall. It's near Millcote."

Wilson hid his surprise at the intense emotion in Edward's voice and the sadness in his eyes and quietly replied, "Of course, Mr. Rochester. But don't worry about Miss Eyre; she has friends here. She's not alone. I'll make sure she's safe and untroubled."

Edward once again stared intently at Robert Wilson for several long moments, thanked him and then left.


	6. Chapter 4c: The Visit

**Chapter 4(c) – The Visit**

After leaving Robert Wilson's home, Edward Rochester walked swiftly through the town, struggling for self-control, trying to quell his anguish and despair, trying to catch his breath, trying to force back the tears that suddenly filled his eyes. He quickly arrived back at the inn and after requesting that a bottle of brandy and a glass be brought up to him went straight up to his room. Edward tore off his coat and his cravat, tossed them aside and began walking rapidly back and forth.

_I can never marry Jane_. _I can never marry Jane_. _I can never marry Jane_. The thought repeated and reverberated in his mind until he thought he would have to scream to drown it out. He could never marry Jane. Never tell her he loved her. Never hear her tell him how much she loved him. Never live with her. Never again enjoy speaking with her, laughing with her, walking with her, just looking at her. Never even see her again. He could never see Jane again.

The brandy arrived. Edward poured himself a glass, quickly tossed it off, then another, and then poured himself one more which he drank slowly. Finished, he put the glass and bottle down on the mantlepiece, then, breathing a little easier although still trembling somewhat, threw himself in the armchair facing the empty fireplace. Edward leaned back in the armchair, arms crossed, legs stretched out, eyes closed. Now he began to replay the entire scene over, feeling once again the chaotic surge of thoughts and emotions he had experienced at Wilson's home, tempered by the alcohol he had just consumed.

When Wilson opened the door, Edward was as surprised to see him as Wilson was to see Edward. Jane's letter had mentioned that a parson named Robert Wilson had offered her the position, but Edward had expected him to be an elderly clergyman, stooped and frail, white haired, not a young, vibrant, handsome man. To realize that the man who had offered his darling Jane the position that took her away from him was _younger and more handsome_ than himself, to learn that _he_ was Jane's new friend and confidant, to learn that Jane had given one of her precious paintings to _this man_ she had just met, when she had never given him, Edward, the man who loved her above all else, anything ... _Jane had never given him anything_ ... Edward remembered, and felt once again in all its intensity, the overwhelming surge of jealousy he had experienced. It had required incredible control not to show the turmoil and pain he was in, or to beat Wilson senseless.

As soon as Wilson informed him that Jane was headed to London, his first instinct had been to follow her there. He was sure he would have no trouble finding Mr. Briggs' office and then he would able to see Jane and talk to her, tell her how much he loved her, beg her to accept his proposal of marriage.

But he had also immediately asked himself a torrent of questions while half-listening to Wilson: Why hadn't Jane mentioned discovering the truth about her uncle in her letter? Didn't she realize that he would want to know about this, that he wanted to know anything and everything about her? Did she no longer consider him a friend? Or had he been mistaken all along – Jane had never considered him a friend at all. He had only imagined she cared for him because he wanted so desperately for her to love him the way he loved her. But now he saw that Jane had never felt anything for him, no warmth, no affection, and certainly no love or desire. He was just her employer, just an ugly old man she felt obligated to please and amuse in order to keep her position, and so she had engaged in those long conversations with him simply because she felt she had no choice. And once she decided to quit, she was no longer obliged to tell him anything except good-bye. Instead he had had to learn all this from that damned Wilson.

Wilson. Edward suddenly stood up and began pacing back and forth again, finally stopping by the window. He leaned against the sill, looked out briefly, then closed his eyes. Wilson. Edward was sure the man was falling in love with Jane, if he wasn't in love with her already. What had he said … oh yes, he had called Jane "a remarkable young woman," "intelligent, kind, talented, dedicated," "an artist." _He had never met anyone like her_.

With his eyes still closed, he remembered the painting. Yes, it was beautiful, but as he had gazed upon it he had suddenly realized the painting was conventional, just a generic still life, a vase with an assortment of wildflowers and nothing more. Any talented schoolgirl with some training could have painted one just like it. It was ordinary; it was nothing like the strange, mysterious, unique paintings in her portfolio. Jane had given Wilson a painting but she hadn't disclosed her innermost self. But she had disclosed herself to _him_, to Edward. And not just by allowing him to see her paintings. She had disclosed herself, her soul, in their many conversations. At that moment, he realized that he could not have been so mistaken about Jane's feelings for him. He could not have so completely misread Jane. She had not conversed with him as a duty or out of mere politeness; she had been really, truly happy to speak with him. Jane did feel more for him than just the respect due to an employer, he was sure of it. She did think of him as a good friend, at least, although he still couldn't explain why she had neglected to tell him about her wealthy uncle. But … perhaps the reason was not because she didn't care for him, but because she didn't think he would care one way or the other, now that she was gone from Thornfield. Jane had no idea how he really felt about her, and so she didn't believe he would care to learn about her uncle. Once again, Edward cursed himself for trying to make Jane jealous by leading her to believe that it was Blanche who had captured his heart and not her. How much damage had he done to himself, and to Jane, with that stupid plan! In his note he let Jane know that there was to be no marriage between him and Blanche. What would her reaction be to that news? Would she be happy, hopeful, or would she be completely indifferent? Not that it mattered anymore. Because he could never have Jane. Ever.

Edward moved from the window, walked to the fireplace, placed one foot on the fender, and leaned on the mantelpiece with both hands. He remembered the crushing despair that began to engulf him when Wilson finally left him alone to write that letter to Jane and how he fought to compose himself to be able to write it. His first and last letter to Jane. It had taken a supreme effort of will, but somehow he wrote the letter.

Marriage. His plan all along had been to make Jane fall in love with him and then get her to marry him. Marry him … _a man who was already married_. The only way that plan would have succeeded would have been to marry Jane as quietly as possible, then flee to the continent to live a secluded life in an unimportant town in a quiet corner of some country where he wasn't known, trying to avoid being found by Richard Mason, who would have him brought up on charges of bigamy. This was possible only as long as there was no one to interfere. As long as there was no one who cared whom Jane married or where she lived. As long as there was no one for Jane to contact. As long as he, and only he, was in her life. But now … now … everything had changed. Everything was different. Now that Jane found that she was not an orphan all alone in the world; now that she had a wealthy, well-connected uncle and three cousins, one a _clergyman_ … how could he continue with his plan now? Jane would never agree to marry in secret then disappear in Europe, losing contact with the family she had just found. Why would she? It made no sense. And how could he justify the need for secrecy, for living in isolation in a foreign land, seeing no one, going nowhere, a life lived totally outside of society, the life of a fugitive, without telling her the reason why – that he was not free to marry, not Blanche, not Jane, not anyone. There was no way he could marry Jane without it becoming known, now that she had family who might care what happened to her, unlike the Reeds who had thrown her out of their lives. There was no way he could marry Jane now that Jane might very well become an heiress before too long; as an heiress she would be dealing with bankers and solicitors on a regular basis and would begin to move in society. In those few minutes in Wilson's study, Edward had realized that there was no way he could continue with his mad plan, not now. It was over. Finished.

Edward had begun trembling as the full realization of what this meant, of how he had to spend the rest of his life without Jane, struck him with such force he felt as thought he had been physically struck. How could he do it? How could he live the rest of his life without Jane, the only woman he had ever loved? The only woman he would ever love? But he had no choice. He could not trick Jane into a fake marriage and destroy her life when the truth, inevitably, came out. It would destroy Jane, perhaps even literally kill her, when she finally learned what he had done to her. And he knew Jane well enough to know that she would never consent to live with him as his mistress. Before all this, when Jane was friendless, totally alone in the world, unloved, unwanted, he could lie to himself that by "marrying" her he was doing something right, noble even, because he would be giving her his love, a home, protection from the world and its cruelty – but now he saw the truth, that he would ruin her if he pursued her because now it would be possible for Mason to find out about their marriage since Jane would no longer be an obscure governess, unknown in society. As an heiress she would become known to the social circle he traveled in, and their wedding would be reported in all the newspapers. There was absolutely no way to avoid it. Then, sooner or later, Richard would learn about the marriage and immediately have him charged with bigamy. Edward would go to prison and Jane and any children they might have by then would be publicly humiliated. There would be no way to recover from the disgrace; it would literally follow them wherever they went, and for the rest of their lives. His children, now bastards, would likely have no future after the truth came out, and as for Jane … all her love would turn to hate, he was sure of it. That was the worst of it, he thought – to see her love die, to have her turn against him, to hear her tell him how much she despised and loathed him for what he had done to her and their children... He imagined the look on her face as she spoke to him for the last time, a look of disgust mixed with intense grief, her voice full of contempt, and how she would then turn and walk out of his life forever, never looking back. Jane would make sure to disappear so that he could never find her or their children again.

No. NO. It was all over. He would return to Thornfield and try, somehow, to go on without Jane. There was no other way. She didn't know he loved her and now she never would. And then one day, perhaps in the not-too-distant future, she would marry another man. Robert Wilson perhaps. Edward remembered those last moments at the door, when he had asked Wilson to contact him if Jane ever needed anything. Wilson's response, that _he_ would make sure Jane was safe and untroubled … Edward felt he knew what that meant. Robert Wilson would one day propose marriage to Jane. And she would in all likelihood accept his proposal. Why not? He was a young, handsome man, educated and settled. Edward remembered how Jane had told him she didn't find him attractive (it hurt every time he thought about it), but she probably found Robert Wilson attractive. Jane Eyre Wilson. Not Jane Eyre Rochester. Edward shook his head as if he could shake the image from his mind. Jane Eyre Wilson. Somehow Edward would have to swallow his pain and go on.

Fortunately, Wilson didn't speak while they had had their tea; Edward was in such turmoil he doubted he could have formulated a coherent response. Then the quick walk to the inn. And now there lay ahead of him a long, restless, sleepless night.

Early the next morning, exhausted, crushed, Edward Rochester boarded the coach back to Thornfield.


	7. Chapter 5: Jane

**Chapter 5 – Jane**

_Jane was walking along the old road to Thornfield, a road which lay chiefly through fields and was little frequented. The fields had long been bare; the haymakers had finished their work. The sky seemed to be on fire with the setting sun, red and orange and purple. There was a fresh breeze which brought with it the smell of rich, damp earth. It was quickly growing cooler as the sun declined in the sky._

_Jane walked quickly, eager to reach Thornfield, eager to be home again._

_Jane crossed the road and reached the gates of Thornfield. Rather than enter the house, she walked into the orchard, then down the winding walk. It was bordered with laurels and terminated in a giant horse-chestnut, circled at the base by a seat. Somehow, Jane knew she would find Edward there, waiting for her._

_Yes, Edward was there, standing under the horse-chestnut tree. Although his back was towards her, somehow he sensed her presence, quickly turned around, and with his arms outstretched he called her name. "Jane!" Jane ran into his arms. She felt the roughness of his unshaven face against her soft cheek. She grasped the soft wool of his coat, wanting to never let go of him. He embraced her tightly, very tightly, and hoarsely whispered in her ear, "Oh Jane, you've finally come back to me! How I've missed you, my love!"_

"_Oh sir, I'm so glad to come back to you! I'm so glad to be back home!"_

_He released her, and holding her by her shoulders, gently shook her. Looking down at Jane he feigned anger and, frowning, exclaimed, "'Sir', she says! Provoking sprite! My name is Edward! Please Jane, please, call me Edward!" _

"_Yes, sir, I mean Edward," Jane laughed._

_Edward laughed also, but then he suddenly became serious. Sighing deeply he said, "Oh Jane! You've been gone for so long! A month! A full month! And then I received your letter … you broke my heart … I believed I would never see you again. Jane, how could you be so cruel when I love you so? How could you leave me? Oh Jane … "_

_Her eyes filling with tears, Jane whispered, "Please forgive me, Edward. I truly love you and I promise I'll never leave you again."_

Jane opened her eyes. At first, still under the spell of the dream, she did not know where she was. She touched her face and found that it was wet with tears. Sighing, she got out of bed, pulled on her robe and slowly walked to the window. Drawing back the curtain, she saw the full moon shining down on a quiet, sleeping countryside.

It was now late September and Jane was back home, at Swallows Cottage.

Knowing it would be some time before she would be able to go back to sleep, Jane lit a candle and decided to go down to the kitchen and make a small pot of tea. She opened the curtains at the kitchen window and the room filled with moonlight. Jane lit two more candles and the stove and then, after putting the kettle on, sat at the table, trying not to dwell on her dream and all the bittersweet emotions it stirred up in her. Instead, Jane tried to focus her mind on all the recent changes in her life and the decisions she still had to make.

Jane had been corresponding with her cousins since she had gotten their address from Mr. Briggs back in June. After her uncle died and left Jane everything, Jane had determined to split the inheritance with Mary, Diana and St. John. St. John had determined to use his share to fulfill his dream of going to India as a missionary. Mary, Diana and Jane had discussed traveling in Europe for a time and then settling together in one house. They planned to get together during Christmas and talk more about it. Jane was deeply grateful that she was now part of a loving family and would no longer be all alone in the world.

Jane rose and went to the bookcase where she kept her sketchbook. Bringing it back to the table, she sat down and began to look through the many quick sketches she had made on her trip to London, trying to decide which ones of these she would use as a basis for paintings.

Jane's trip to London had been very eventful. Mr. Briggs had insisted that she stay with him and his family in their home, refusing to take no for an answer. He would never allow a young, unaccompanied woman to remain alone in a London hotel! Mrs. Briggs and their three young children warmed to Jane immediately and Jane soon felt as if she had known them all her life. Once all the necessary documents were signed and filed with the court, Mrs. Briggs took Jane sightseeing. As Jane walked the bustling streets, she was entranced; everything was new to her. Her secluded life, spent first at Gateshead, then Lowood and then Thornfield had not prepared her for the crowded streets, the noise, the smell of London. It was overwhelming at first, but she had quickly grown to love the excitement of being in such a great city.

Over a period of several days Mrs. Briggs had made sure that Jane saw some of glories of London. Westminster Abbey. The Tower of London. Buckingham Palace. The newly rebuilt Houses of Parliament. They entered into Euston Station to see the trains arrive and leave, and they had walked through Regent's Park, which had just been opened to the public. When they went out one night to see a comedy at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, Jane's first time at a theater, she had been as amazed at the gas lights illuminating the streets as she had been at seeing an actual performance. She had laughed to herself as she imagined what Mr. Brocklehurst would have had to say about the play.

As she began to drink her tea, hot, fragrant and very soothing, Jane remembered seeing the many ships tied up at the docks, being loaded and unloaded. Her tea had undoubtedly been unloaded from a ship just like the ones she had seen. Standing on the docks, Jane had tried to imagine where the ships had come from and where they would sail to next. Europe? The Americas? Asia? Africa? She tried to imagine what those ports would look like; what the people would look like, what languages they would speak. Then, she began to remember all the stories Edward had told her of his many journeys. He had described everything so vividly that she had been able to see those foreign scenes in her mind's eye as clearly as if she'd journeyed there as well.

_Edward_. Jane remembered how surprised she had been to receive his letter upon her return; it had never occurred to her that he would come to see her. Although she was sorry she had missed seeing him for what would undoubtedly be the last time, she was also somewhat relieved. To see him again, knowing he never had, never would love her …

Jane had been glad to learn that Edward was not going to marry Blanche after all, since Blanche didn't love him. But in the end it really didn't matter what Edward did or whom he married since he didn't love her, Jane, and he never would. Jane sighed. She missed Edward deeply, but it was better this way. She was glad she had not returned to Thornfield and that she now had the means to make a new and better life for herself, away from Edward. To have remained at Thornfield, being tortured by being in his presence, loving him but not being loved in return … and after all, just because he chose not to marry Blanche didn't mean he wouldn't one day choose to marry someone else, and then once again Jane would have been forced to watch him court another woman. To go through all that torture again … no, it was better this way, even though it meant she would never see him again …

Determined to put all thoughts of Edward out of her mind, Jane forced herself to focus on her sketches and soon became engrossed in selecting which one she would paint as a Christmas gift for Mary and Diana. An hour later, serene and happier, Jane went back up to her bedroom.


	8. Chapter 6: Edward

**Chapter 6 – Edward**

_He ran from room to room, looking for her. He thought, "If I keep searching, I'll find her. She must be here somewhere, she must! She hasn't left me! She would never leave me! She would never hurt me like that!" The library, the dining room, the hall, the long gallery, the schoolroom, the bedrooms … he searched the first floor, the second floor, the third, his footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet, deserted building. He became more and more desperate as he opened door after door after door, and found only emptiness. She was nowhere to be found. _

_Wild, anguished, afraid, he stood in the deepening darkness, his heart pounding so hard he could hardly draw a breath. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to calmness. Then it came to him … the orchard._

_He ran down the stairs, out the open front door, out into the cool evening air. The sun was setting, a fiery, beautiful sunset. But he took no note as he ran down the winding walk. He ran until he reached the giant horse-chestnut, then stopped, panting and looking wildly around him. "She must be here, somewhere, she must!" he exclaimed. Suddenly he sensed her presence behind him and quickly turned around. There she was. Although the sun was fading quickly, there was still enough light for him to see Jane standing in the shadow of a large laurel tree. Seeing him, she ran into his open arms._

_Holding her very tightly he whispered "Janet! Oh, Janet! You've finally come home! Oh, my love.…" then he kissed her, a long, deep kiss, his heart pounding wildly as he felt her slender body pressed tightly against his. Feeling her heart beating just as hard and as fast against his increased his excitement. How he wanted her! He had never wanted anyone the way he wanted her. Overwhelmed with his desire for her, trembling, feeling as if he might faint, he stopped to draw a shaky breath, then pulled back and, holding her face in his hands, gazed down into her beautiful, wondrous eyes. Smiling, he mouthed the words "I love you, I love you, Jane." Also breathless, Jane smiled up at him, her hands flat on his chest, her usually pale little face flushed and ardent, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I love you Edward. I love you with all my heart, with all my soul, and I promise I will never leave you again." Elated at her confession of her love for him, he quickly brought his mouth down on hers again and closed his eyes._

Edward opened his eyes, awakened by the full moon shining on his face. Groaning with frustration, he sat up, threw the sheets off and strode barefoot to the open window. Leaning against the window sill, as a refreshing breeze cooled his face and ruffled his hair, he looked out and saw the moon shining down on the water. It was now late September and he was in his villa on the shores of the Mediterranean, some miles from the little seaside resort of Cassis, in the south of France.

Feeling restless and melancholy, he impulsively got dressed and quietly left for a walk on the beach. Edward slowly walked along the water's edge, the water lapping at his feet. He walked for several hours; finally, at dawn, he returned to the villa for an early breakfast.

Every night was the same, whether he had the rare dream where he was reunited with Jane, or, more often, one of the recurring nightmares that had plagued him since Jane left.

In one of his recurring dreams, he found himself at Jane's schoolroom.

_Somehow he was free from Bertha and could finally claim Jane as his own. He walked towards her. She was seated at her desk, looking at some schoolwork, unaware of his presence. She was beautiful. Her hair was lustrous, her skin glowing and smooth. She took his breath away. He called her name. She looked up, her face registering her surprise and pleasure at seeing him. His heart pounding with love and joy he walked up to her and stood before her. He was about to speak, to tell her of his love, when she stood up. And then he saw that he was too late, that Jane was lost to him forever. Jane was heavily pregnant. Completely oblivious of his emotional turmoil, she offered him her hand. Dazed, he took it. "I'm so happy to see you Mr. Rochester! So much has happened since I left Thornfield! I'm married now, to Mr. Robert Wilson. You remember him, don't you? You met him once." Speechless with grief, Edward could only nod. Then, with the crazy logic of dreams, Wilson magically appeared beside Jane. She turned away from Edward and, embracing Wilson, sighed "Oh, Robert! How I love you!" Looking over Jane's head at Edward, Wilson smiled triumphantly. Evilly. And with that smile Edward realized that Wilson knew, had in fact known all along, of his love for Jane. And that he had deliberately courted, wed and impregnated Jane in order to deprive Edward of her forever. Heartbroken, crushed, Edward just stood there, unable to move, and wished he were dead._

Wilson did not appear in his other recurring nightmare, but it was just as painful.

_Somehow he was free from Bertha and could finally claim Jane as his own. He walked towards her. She was seated on a bench in a garden, engrossed in a book, unaware of his presence. She was beautiful. Her hair was lustrous, her skin glowing and smooth. She took his breath away. He called her name. She looked up from her book, frowning at the interruption. His heart pounding with love and joy he walked up to her and stood before her. She was still frowning, which confused him, but he spoke nonetheless. He had to speak and tell her of his love. "Jane. I must speak to you. I must tell you … I must tell you that I love you, Jane. I love you with all my heart. I have always loved you. You and only you. Please, Jane, please, please, say you love me and will marry me, for I cannot live without you." Jane stared blankly at him for some moments, then burst out laughing. That laugh. It was a cold, nasty laugh, full of contempt and derision. Actually, she laughed exactly like Blanche. He knew what was coming but he just stood there, meekly, quietly, and waited for the blow to fall. As soon as she could catch her breath, with a look of intense disgust contorting her beautiful face Jane snarled "You must be mad! Absolutely mad! I can't possibly marry you! I don't love you! I never have and I never, ever could. You are very, very, VERY old and you know I find you very, very, VERY unattractive." Jane paused for breath, shook her head and then continued, mercilessly. "You ugly old man! You stupid old fool! Whatever possessed you to ask me to marry you? Whatever made you think I would say yes?" And still laughing heartily, Jane got up and walked out of the garden and out of his life forever. Heartbroken, crushed, stunned by her callousness, Edward sat heavily on the bench and wished he were dead._

And then there was the horrific nightmare he had experienced soon after his arrival at the villa. Thankfully, he'd had that dream only once. Even now, some two weeks later, he could not bear to remember that dream.

_He was running down the darkened corridors, bursting into and out of rooms, frantically searching the deserted Hall for Jane. He knew she was in mortal danger but he could nowhere find her. Suddenly he heard her terrified screams and her desperate cries for help: "Edward! Edward! Save me!" He ran down the corridor to her room, but the corridor seemed to grow longer the more he ran, and her room seemed to recede from him. Then he suddenly found himself bursting through her door. Jane was pinned to the bed, struggling futilely against the much larger Bertha who was straddling her and holding both of Jane's slender wrists above Jane's head with one large, powerful hand. Bertha looked right at him, a mixture of triumph, cunning and malignant hatred contorting her features. Then she looked down at Jane and laughed as she plunged a long, thin knife between her breasts. Momentarily paralyzed with horror, he could do nothing as Bertha jumped off Jane, ran past him and escaped into the darkness._

_Edward dashed towards the bed and carefully picked up Jane and held her in his arms, but he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to save her. Jane was still breathing, but just barely, her breaths coming fast and shallow. The color was rapidly draining from her face; her lips were a bluish grey. She never spoke and only looked at him, her facial expression one of uncomprehending terror. He stared in horrified fascination as the knife, deeply embedded in her heart, quivered with each heartbeat. He watched helplessly as her life's blood flooded out of her, quickly spreading across her chest and down to her abdomen, drenching her white nightgown. Then, as the knife's quivering slowed, then ceased, he began to scream._

Edward's anguished cries woke him and the entire household. Minutes later the cook, the laundress, the maid and his manservant burst into his room, all in their nightgowns and followed by a madly barking Pilot, ready to do battle with the brigands they were sure were murdering him in his bed. If he hadn't still been so overwhelmed with terror and grief, he would have laughed out loud. The cook was armed with a heavy skillet, the laundress with a large iron, the maid clutched a poker and the manservant wielded an ancient pistol that probably hadn't been fired since the War of the Spanish Succession, and would in all likelihood cause more injury to the bearer than to the intended target. He assured them he was fine, apologized profusely for terrifying them and gave them each a large brandy to calm their nerves, and a gold sovereign to reward them for their loyalty and bravery. He also gave his manservant some money and told him to buy a new pistol first thing the next day.

The dream had felt so real that falling sleep again that night had been out of the question. Instead he spent the rest of the night sitting on the terrace, looking out at the sea, smoking and drinking, desperate to shake off the horror of his nightmare but nevertheless compelled to replay it over and over. But he also felt something he could never have predicted: he was deeply thankful that Jane had left Thornfield and him; now Bertha could never harm his darling girl. Even if he never saw Jane again, at least he knew she was safe.

The next day had been no better. At dawn Edward went for a long walk in the hills behind the villa, wandering aimlessly under the ancient olive trees, trying to blot out the image of Jane dying in his arms, but to no avail. He walked for miles along the water's edge, squinting in the bright sunlight, but it made no difference. All day long, no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake the despair which clung to him and penetrated his mind and his heart. And he knew why he couldn't shake his deep depression and horror. He had seen that exact same look on Bertha's face the last time he saw her, before he left Thornfield forever.

_Thornfield_. God, how he hated the very name of the place.

Upon his return from Gateshead, Edward had stopped at the gates of Thornfield, momentarily so overwhelmed by his fury and despair at losing Jane that he had been unable to continue. He had stared up at the battlements for a long time, then, pushing down his emotions, he resolutely walked through the gates.

Edward had spent the next several days wandering restlessly through the rooms and grounds of Thornfield, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his life. How could he live without his darling Jane?

He was torn, conflicted, unable to decide what to do. One moment he felt that he wanted nothing more than to flee Thornfield forever, to put as much distance as possible between himself and the woman who had forever deprived him of love and happiness, and he would begin to pack. The next moment he felt that he wanted to stay at Thornfield forever because this was where he met and fell in love with Jane. Everywhere he turned, every object in every room, everything reminded him of Jane. To sit by the fire and look at the chair where she sat all those nights, talking with him, laughing with him; to walk the grounds and picture her by his side … these precious memories were all he had left of her and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Thornfield and losing his last tie to her.

And if he left Thornfield, what then? Where would he go? What would he do? Edward knew he could never return to his dissolute, useless life on the Continent. He could never again engage in meaningless, heartless affairs, making love to women who meant nothing to him and who cared nothing for him. Even before he met Jane that life had filled him with self-loathing and disgust. Now that he knew what it was to really love someone, it was absolutely impossible.

Finally, after he'd been back at Thornfield for a week, Edward began to take steps to move on with his life. He began to search for a good school for Adele and after placing her in one of the best schools in the area, he then took it upon himself to find a position for Sophie, who had no wish to return to France.

In a determined effort to occupy his mind and stop dwelling on his loss, Edward immersed himself in the work of managing his estate. He had always been dutiful in managing the land and all his investments, but now he really devoted himself to it, spending long days and nights poring over endless paperwork. When he got sick of reading bank statements or going over the accounts, he read books from his vast library.

But all of Edward's efforts to forget Jane were unsuccessful; she was all he could think about, dream about, long for. Always Jane. Nothing mattered to him except Jane. But Jane was gone. Often, after his work was done, Edward would sit on the seat at the base of the horse-chestnut late into the night and think about Jane, his heart somewhat soothed by the beauty of the summer evening. He would dream of the life they would have had, a happy, safe, secluded life, where they would have been completely devoted to each other. He would dream of how he would have lavished all the love in his heart on her. He envisioned all the countries they would have visited and how he would have enjoyed watching her delight as she discovered the world and its many wonders. He would dream of how happy they would have been, even naming the children they might have had.

By the end of August, Edward felt that he could no longer continue living this way. He had no choice but to leave Thornfield; living in the same building as the woman who had destroyed his life had become absolutely unbearable. Then he remembered his little villa in the south of France and decided to live out the remainder of his life there. Perhaps there, in the tranquility of his villa by the sea, he could begin to come to terms with losing her forever.

The night before he left Thornfield he visited with Grace, to tell her of his decision to leave and never come back.

"Grace, I've come to a decision," Edward said softly, as he stood facing the fire in Bertha's room. Grace was sitting at the table, looking at him. Bertha, apparently asleep, lay curled upon the bed at the far end of the room, her back towards them. The bed was in darkness, outside the circle of light given off by the lamp which hung from the ceiling by a chain.

He turned and faced Grace. "I can no longer bear to remain here at Thornfield. I'm leaving and I'm never coming back. Living here … I just can't bear it any more. Thanks to _her_," and he jerked his head in Bertha's direction, "thanks to that evil, disgusting.…" He paused, then continued, angrily, bitterly, "Oh, God, thanks to _her_, I have lost everything that has ever mattered to me. Because of Bertha, I can never be with…." He stopped.

"Yes, sir, I know," Grace said, looking at him compassionately.

"You know? What do you know, Grace?" Edward asked, surprised.

"About Miss Eyre, sir."

At his look of astonishment, Grace continued, "Forgive my boldness, sir, but I must tell you that we all knew. Mrs. Fairfax, the servants … we all knew you cared deeply for Miss Eyre. Servants see everything. They saw how you were always with her, talking to her, laughing with her. I know you love her, and I'm sorry …"

At that moment Bertha attacked. Edward and Grace, believing her to still be asleep, had not noticed her silently creeping towards them until she lunged at Edward. Taken by surprise, he was nearly overpowered. Grace jumped from her seat and fought to pull Bertha off Edward. They both struggled and with great difficulty finally got the better of Bertha. Edward finally managed to pin Bertha's arms behind her and pushed her down onto the chair and held her there as Grace tied Bertha to the chair, Bertha lunging and shrieking the whole time. Edward stepped back, still gasping for breath, and stared at Bertha, a look of intense disgust on his face. Bertha stared back at him, her face contorted with hatred and hissed, "I hate you! I hate you! I will kill your whore _Miss Eyre_. I will kill her right in front of your eyes. And I will laugh when I kill her."

Horrified, Edward simply turned and walked out of the room, determined never to return.

The following morning he left Thornfield.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Briefly, in the War of the Spanish Succession (1701–1714) several European powers combined to stop French succession to the Spanish throne and the resulting shift in the European balance of power. It was a major European conflict. The war was fought not only in Europe, but also in North America, where the conflict became known to the English colonists as Queen Anne's War, and by corsairs and privateers along the Spanish Main. Over the course of the fighting, some 400,000 people were killed. (Wikipedia)


	9. Chapter 7: Moor House

Finally! A new chapter! I'm very sorry for the long delay, but I've been too preoccupied to make a lot of progress on this story. First my wonderful cat Rhubarb passed away at the end of June, which kind of took the wind out of my sails. Then I signed up for an online course with Oxford University on Jane Austen (my other favorite novelist) which required re-reading all six of her novels, plus participating in online discussions, plus writing two assignments. I passed, yay! but it took up all of my free time, so I just didn't have the time to devote to this story. Oh, and I almost forgot, I also changed jobs! But I've finally got this chapter finished, and the next two almost completed, so, without further ado ....

**Chapter 7 – Moor House**

"What are your plans for the day, Jane?" Diana asked, as she buttered a piece of toast.

After swallowing her tea Jane replied, "I was thinking of going for a long walk since today is the first clear and sunny day we've had in a week. I'll take my sketchpad to make quick sketches. I need some new subjects for my watercolors."

"That sounds wonderful. Perhaps Mary and I can join you?"

"Oh, yes, of course, I'd love the company."

The three cousins set out an hour later.

Walking slowly in the crisp, cold air, talking and laughing, the newly fallen snow crunching under their boots, they made their way to Marsh Glen. When they reached the head of the glen they fell silent, to better appreciate the inspiring sight. The stream descended the ravine, plentiful and clear, gleaming in the bright sunlight, dashing against the rocks and throwing up foam and spray.

Finally, some long minutes later, Diana spoke. "This is truly my favorite place. I so love this view. When I'm here, I have no wish to be anywhere else."

"I feel the same, Diana," Mary said softly. "And I cannot believe that St. John is determined to leave this wonderful, beautiful place, to travel to India. And he probably will never return…" Choked with sudden tears, Mary stopped talking and walked a few steps away. Jane and Diana watched her sadly. After she had composed herself, Mary returned to her cousins.

"So, it's final, then?" Jane asked quietly. "St. John is going through with his plan?"

"Oh, yes, Jane, St. John is quite determined. And you've known him long enough to know that once he has made a decision, nothing can dissuade him. He must, at any cost, follow through with his plan," Mary said sadly.

"Nothing can dissuade him? Not even Miss Oliver?"

"Not even Miss Oliver," Diana replied. "You know, Jane, that Mary and I have long hoped that he would marry Miss Oliver, but we can see now that it is never to be."

After a few minutes of silence, Jane swept the snow off a large rock, sat down, set up her materials and began to sketch, her cousins quietly watching her progress. After half an hour Jane felt she had enough sketches for several new paintings and suggested they leave. They began to retrace their steps, then Diana suggested they stop by the Oliver home to pay Rosamond a visit. Mary agreed, but Jane declined; she wanted to return to the house and begin painting while the inspiration was still fresh. They parted ways and Jane returned alone to Moor House. When the house came into view Jane stopped and gazed at it lovingly. She had experienced so much love and joy in this little home, and she thanked God once again that she had finally found her true family.

Still smiling to herself, Jane walked quickly to Moor House and entered by the kitchen door. As she removed her gloves and bonnet and warmed herself in front of the blazing fire, Hannah bustled in.

"Oh, Miss Jane, there you are! There's a gentleman been waiting for you for over an hour; he arrived not long after you left. He's in the parlor. I told him you were out with Miss Mary and Miss Diana, and that I did not know when you would return, but he said he had come a very long way and would wait as long as he must for he has to see you."

Surprised, Jane turned to face Hannah. "A gentleman, Hannah? But I am not expecting anyone. Did he give his name?"

"Yes, Miss. He said he's Mr. Rochester, from Thornfield Hall."

Frightened by the look of intense astonishment on Jane's face, Hannah blurted, "Did I do wrong in allowing him to stay, Miss?" Then, angrily, Hannah exclaimed, "And I took him for a gentleman! That scoundrel! Miss, stay right here. Since you came in the back, I'm sure he's not seen you. Stay here, and I'll order him to leave straightaway. I'll throw him out if it comes to it!"

Jane quickly reached out and taking Hannah's hand pulled her back, laughing. "No, Hannah, it's fine. He _is_ a gentleman and he's a good man. He was my master when I was a governess. I'm just very surprised that he has come all this way to see me. It must be very important for him to have come so far. I'll go see him now."

"You're sure, Miss?" Hannah asked warily.

"Yes, Hannah, I'm sure. I'll be perfectly safe. Mr. Rochester would never harm anyone."

Jane left the kitchen and walked towards the parlor. She stopped at a mirror in the hallway and looked at her reflection. Her cheeks were still glowing from the cold and her hair was in place. She smiled at herself, then walked to the parlor.

At the closed parlor door Jane stopped once again, her heart racing, and took several deep breaths to try to calm down. "_He's here_! I can't believe he's here, to see _me_!" she whispered to herself.

Finally, Jane took a deep breath and reached out and turned the door's handle. As Jane entered the parlor she saw Edward standing before the fire, his back to the door. Upon hearing her enter, he quickly turned around. They faced each other, both speechless for a few moments. Then, his voice soft and low, Edward spoke.

"Hello, Jane. Merry Christmas."


	10. Chapter 8: A Conversation

**Chapter 8 – A Conversation**

"Hello, sir. Merry Christmas to you, too."

Edward walked quickly towards Jane, and taking her outstretched hand in both of his, he looked down at her, his facial expression soft and tender, his eyes fixed intently on hers. He smiled and said, "It is so very good to see you again, Jane. I've missed you! I have missed our long conversations." He paused, then continued, "You look very well, and very happy. So, this new life agrees with you, I see." He laughed and said, "You must be glad to have left your gloomy and difficult master now that you are rich and independent?"

"Well, I am happy, sir, to have finally found my cousins. They are so good to me, so kind and loving. I feel as if I have known them all my life. But I ... I …" Jane stopped, unable to continue, unable to tell him the truth: "_But I have missed you very much, sir; I wish I were back at Thornfield with you._" How could she tell him the truth, that she loved him with all her heart and had missed him so much it hurt? Of course she could tell him no such thing, so she remained silent.

Concerned, he frowned, clasped her hand more tightly and gently pulled her closer towards himself. He whispered urgently, "But what, Jane? Is something wrong? Is there anything I can do for you? Please, Jane, please, tell me how I can help you. I hope you know I would do anything to make you happy."

The look of gentle kindness mixed with genuine concern on his face made her feel very vulnerable, and shocked by the sudden, overwhelming surge of love she felt for him, she abruptly withdrew her hand from his and walked quickly to the fireplace. Jane tended the fire in order to give herself some time to collect her thoughts and suppress her emotions.

Finally she spoke, briskly and with a forced cheerfulness. "Oh, no, sir, nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. Please don't worry about me. I really don't need your help with anything. I've never been happier in my life than I am now."

Turning to face him, she was surprised at the sudden change in his expression and bearing. He now looked sad, subdued. All the joy and tenderness were gone from his face. He slowly walked to the window, pulled the curtain aside and looked out.

Alarmed at the change in his demeanor, she cast about in her mind for something to say to break the silence, then thought to ask him if he wanted some tea. Without turning from the window, speaking in a low voice, he said "Thank you, Jane. I'll have some tea, but only if you also want some. I don't want to put you or your housekeeper to any trouble."

"It's no trouble at all, sir, and after my long walk a hot cup of tea would be very welcome. I'll go and ask Hannah to prepare tea for us." Jane quickly left the room and went to the kitchen. As Hannah put the kettle on to boil Jane got the tea things together, then returned to the parlor. Jane had left the door open and as she quietly approached the room, she was surprised to see that Edward had not moved from the window. Entering the room, Jane announced that Hannah would soon be in with the tea. Edward finally turned from the window and, unsmiling, thanked Jane.

"Sir, please, sit down." Jane felt at a loss as he sat in an armchair and just watched her, a somber expression on his face. As he remained silent, Jane sat opposite him, and said, "I am glad to see you again, sir, but I must say, I was very surprised to find you here. If I may ask ... why have you come here? It's such a long way from Thornfield. Do you know anyone in this area? And how did you know I was staying here?"

"No, Jane, I know no one here. Only you. I came specifically to see you. Of course, I went to your home first and when I realized you were gone, I went to see Wilson. He told me you were visiting your family and was kind enough to give me the address." He stopped and Jane waited for him to continue. Finally, after a few moments, he went on. "I came to ask you ... to tell you ... Jane, something has happened. I ..." He paused again, then suddenly blurted out, "It's about Thornfield. It's gone."

"'Gone?' I don't understand ..."

"Yes, gone. The hall burned down this past autumn. It was completely destroyed."

Shocked, Jane exclaimed, "Oh sir, how dreadful! But how? And was anyone hurt? Mrs. Fairfax? Leah? Adele! Thank heaven Adele was in school and not at Thornfield!"

In a rush, Edward answered, "Mrs. Fairfax and Leah are fine. Only one person was killed."

Jane just stared at him, her eyes widened in surprise and fear. Holding her breath, she sat quietly, afraid to hear who had been killed. Edward looked directly at Jane and, taking a deep breath, said softly, "My wife. My wife was killed."

Horrified and confused, Jane blurted out, "Your wife? But … but I thought that you were not going to marry Blanche? So you and Blanche were married after all? And then she died in the fire? How dreadful for you, sir! I'm so sorry for your loss, sir."

"No, Jane. I did not marry Blanche."

"Then who was your wife, sir? I don't understand."

"My wife was Bertha Antoinetta Mason. Richard Mason's sister."


	11. Chapter 9: The Truth

Finally! Edward finally tells Jane everything!

If you are familiar with the novel you will notice that interspersed in Edward's speeches are some words and sentences that are either paraphrased or lifted directly from Chapters 23, 24 and 27. I can't improve on perfection!

**Chapter 9 – The Truth**

Several long moments of silence passed as Jane struggled to understand. "Mr. Mason had a sister? And _she_ was your wife? So, instead of marrying Blanche Ingram last year _you married Mr. Mason's_ _sister_?"

Edward looked straight at Jane, took a deep breath and slowly replied in a flat voice. "I have been married to Bertha Mason for fifteen years. I met and married Bertha Mason in Jamaica _fifteen years ago_. I have been married all this time."

Jane just stared at Edward, speechless. Unable to bear the deepening look of confusion and horror on Jane's face as the full import of his words sank in, Edward looked down at his hands. He sighed deeply and shook his head. Finally, he looked up at Jane again, a look of grim determination on his face.

"Yes, Jane, I have been married all these years. But I kept it a secret. Only my father and my brother knew of my marriage. Actually, it was my father who arranged my marriage." Edward paused briefly, then continued in a rush, his voice full of bitterness and hatred. "Yes, _my father_, damn him, arranged it all. All he ever cared about was money, so he refused to divide the estate between me and my older brother, Rowland. However, since he also could not endure that a son of his should be penniless, his solution was to marry me off to an heiress. So what if she came from a mad family? So what if it destroyed my happiness? So what if it destroyed _my life_?"

Edward suddenly rose from his seat and quickly paced back and forth several times, struggling to regain control of his emotions. When he had succeeded, he stopped and stood directly in front of Jane.

"Jane, will you please allow me to tell you the story of my marriage?" he pleaded. "I want you to understand what I've done and why." Jane briefly nodded. Encouraged, Edward pulled the chair closer to Jane, and sat down again, but before he could begin Hannah bustled into the room with a large, heavily laden tray.

"Here you are, Miss Jane, Mr. Rochester. Besides the tea, I've brought you some small scones I baked just this morning, and some butter and jam. I thought you might both be wanting a little something to eat, seeing as how it's been a few hours since breakfast."

Although food was now the last thing on Jane's mind, somehow she managed to recover enough composure to thank Hannah for her thoughtfulness.

Completely oblivious of the tension between Jane and Edward, Hannah cheerfully chided, "Oh, it's no trouble at all, Miss Jane. Now, if you'll be wanting anything else, I'll be in the kitchen." She beamed at both of them and then left.

There were several minutes of awkward silence as Jane silently poured herself a cup of tea, more from a need to do something to help her focus her mind and control her racing thoughts than from a desire for tea. As she stirred in some milk and sugar, Edward noticed that she did not offer to pour him a cup. In fact, she now seemed to be ignoring him, carefully avoiding making eye contact as she slowly sipped the hot, fragrant liquid. Beginning to feel desperate and increasingly afraid of Jane's reaction, Edward abruptly broke the silence.

"Thank you, Jane, for giving me the opportunity to explain myself. First, please understand that I never meant to hurt you with my deceit, but I could think of no way out of the hell I was living in."

Edward paused. Jane was finally looking at him again, but she just stared blankly and waited for him to continue. He looked at her carefully. Her face was pale and she was trembling slightly, but otherwise she seemed composed. He continued.

"As I told you, my father arranged my marriage to Bertha Mason, the daughter of an old acquaintance of his. Mr. Mason was a West India planter and merchant and was said to be very wealthy. My father made inquiries and learned that Mr. Mason's possessions were real and vast, that he had only two children, a son and a daughter, and that he could and would give his daughter a fortune of thirty thousand pounds. So, when I left college, I was sent out to Jamaica, to marry a bride already courted for me. My father said nothing about her money, but did tell me that Miss Mason was the boast of Spanish Town for her beauty. It was no lie. She was beautiful then – tall, dark, majestic."

He paused, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his right hand. Jane remained silent and waited for him to continue. After a few moments he went on.

"Yes, she was beautiful. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I was eager to be with her, to spend as much time as possible in her presence. She flattered me, and being ignorant, raw and inexperienced I believed I loved her and that she loved me. It wasn't until much later, after we married, that I realized that I had seldom seen her alone, that I had only seen Bertha at parties, and that I had spent very little time in private conversation with her. If I had spent time with her, I might have realized that I could never be happy with her. But her relatives encouraged me, competitors piqued me (all the men in her circle seemed to admire her), she allured me and so a marriage was achieved almost before I knew where I was. Oh, I have no respect for myself when I think of that act! – an agony of inward contempt masters me. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not even know her. I was not sure of the existence of one virtue in her nature. I had marked neither modesty nor benevolence, nor candor, nor refinement in her mind or manners – _and I married her_. What a mole-eyed blockhead I was!

"As for the family – the bride's mother I had never seen. I understood she was dead and it was only after the honeymoon that I learned the truth, that she was shut up in a lunatic asylum. There was a younger brother, whose existence they had kept secret, who was a complete dumb idiot, and an older brother, Richard, who will probably be in the same state one day. My father and brother knew all this, but they thought only of the thirty thousand pounds I would receive on marrying Bertha and joined in the plot against me.

"Married, I discovered too late that her nature was totally alien to mine. Her tastes were obnoxious to me, her cast of mind common, low, narrow, so much so that we could not spend even an hour in pleasant conversation, because whatever topic I started immediately received from her a turn at once coarse and trite, perverse and imbecile. I saw that I would never have a quiet or settled household because she was violent and unreasonable and we could not keep servants because they refused to tolerate her outbursts, her contradictory, exacting and absurd demands.

"But her violent temper was the least of it. Hers was a nature the most gross, impure, depraved, I ever saw. It had soon become obvious that Bertha was unchaste as well as intemperate, and she dragged me and my name through one degrading episode after another. Desperate, disgusted, I decided to divorce her, but found that I could not, because the doctors now determined that she was mad. Apparently her excesses had prematurely developed the germs of insanity that ran in her blood, that ran in the blood of everyone in that accursed family. To my horror, I realized that I was well and truly trapped since she was as strong in body as she was feeble in mind, and would in all likelihood live as long as I. As there was now no legal way that I could rid myself of her, I realized that I could never hope to marry another woman, a woman I could truly love, a woman I could share my life with, have a family with. Thus, at the age of twenty-six, I was hopeless."

Edward looked closely at Jane and alarmed by her pallid face interrupted himself, "Jane, you look positively ill. Please forgive me. I'll stop for a few minutes to allow you to compose yourself."

"No, sir, I'm fine. Please continue."

"Are you sure, Jane? Yes? Well, then, I'll try to be brief. Jane, I lived with Bertha for four long years, the four longest and worst years of my life. Than, one fiery hot night, as _my wife_ shrieked out curses at me – and although two rooms off, I heard every word as the walls of houses in the West Indies are paper thin – I actually, in a moment of extreme despair, contemplated suicide. But only for a moment, as I am not mad. Then a tremendous storm broke; the air became pure, clear, refreshing, and as I walked in my garden after the storm passed, I formed a resolution. Since I had been deceived and had been tricked into marrying Bertha, I told myself that she was not my true wife, nor was I her husband. As it was, no one outside of Jamaica even knew of my marriage because in my letter to my father to inform him of it, I – already experiencing extreme disgust of its consequences, and from the family character and constitution seeing a hideous future opening to me – had added an urgent charge to keep it secret. Very soon her infamous conduct made him as anxious to conceal the fact of my marriage as I was. Now I determined that no one ever would know. I decided to return home to England, to confine Bertha with due attendance and precautions at Thornfield, then travel and form what new tie I liked since I considered myself free to do so."

Jane interrupted, "_Thornfield_? You brought her to _Thornfield_?"

"Yes, I brought her to Thornfield. As bitter as I was, I wanted her to have the best care possible, which I knew she would not receive in an asylum. So I placed her in a secure room and hired someone to watch her. You've met her keeper – Grace Poole."

"Grace Poole? Then … the strange laughter, and …" Jane paused, frowned, then continued, "the fire in your bedroom – was that Bertha? And it was she who attacked Mr. Mason? And did no one, Mrs. Fairfax, Leah, John, anyone, know who she was?"

"Yes, both incidents were Bertha's doing. And no, no one knew Bertha was my wife. They knew there was a madwoman at Thornfield, of course, but they were all completely ignorant of her tie to me. Before you ever came to Thornfield, I ordered them to keep all knowledge of her from you, fearing that no governess would stay if she knew with what inmate she was housed. And now you know why I refused to dismiss Grace after the fire. Of course I knew it was Bertha, but there was no way I could tell you the truth – that Bertha had stolen the key from Grace, who had had too much to drink and had fallen asleep, and escaped from her room and set the fire because she hated me so much she wanted to burn me alive. And it was Bertha who attacked Mason, who was foolish enough to go alone to see her, even though I had emphatically warned him not to. And it was Bertha who set the fire that destroyed Thornfield and killed her."

Edward paused for a moment, to give Jane an opportunity to respond, but she had fallen silent again, so he resumed speaking.

"Well. To continue. After installing Bertha at Thornfield, I traveled extensively, determined to find the love and happiness that had been denied me with my marriage to Bertha. For ten long years I searched the world for a woman I could love, but I was unsuccessful. As you already know, I was involved with Céline, and you know how badly that ended. There were some other women, but those relationships also ended in disappointment. As the years passed I became very bitter; I hated my useless, roving, lonely life, but could find no way out of it. Finally, one night last January I returned to England to attend to business. And then I met you. In Hay Lane. And my life changed forever.

"Janet, you intrigued me from the very moment we met. The way you insisted on helping me mount Mesrour, even though I was abrupt, surly, rude even – from the moment I leaned on you, I realized that you were like no one else I had ever met, and I wanted, no, wanted is a weak word, I _needed_ to speak to you, I _needed_ to know you. How relieved I was when you told me that you belonged at Thornfield and that I was your master and that you were not about to just disappear from my life! Now I was assured that I could see you, speak with you, on a daily basis. Well, as I said, I was determined to know you better; to that end I called you into my presence every evening to converse with me. I wanted to draw you out, to discover what was in your mind, to learn what was in your heart. Soon, very soon, I found myself growing more and more attached to you. Now I did not just need to speak with you, _I needed to be with you_. I needed to be with you and I would wait impatiently all day until I could call you into my presence in the evening. But, I played the master and hid my growing affection for you, and continued to be abrupt and changeable. I don't suppose you ever suspected that my feelings for you were changing, did you Jane?"

Jane slowly shook her head. "No, sir, I did not. I had no idea how you felt."

"No, of course you had no idea. I hid my feelings so well, there was no way you could have discerned how much I had come to care for you. But then there was the fire in my bedroom – and that night I made my plans. The way you saved my life, Jane – I can never forget what a debt I owe you. That night as we stood there alone, your little hand in mine, I realized that what I felt for you was a profound love. I had never loved anyone the way I loved you; I hadn't even known it was possible to love anyone the way I loved you. You were all I could think about – but what about you? Did you ever think about me at all? I loved you with all my heart – but did you love me at all? Or did you just see me as your employer? I had no idea how you felt about me. And I was desperate to know. That's when I thought to have that awful house party, and invite Blanche. I am now ashamed to say that it was all a ploy to get you to notice me. I intended to render you as madly in love with me as I was with you, and I felt that jealousy would be the best ally I could call in for the furtherance of that end. In short, I feigned courtship of Blanche to make you love me."

Perplexed, Jane asked, "But sir, if you were married, what could it matter to you how I felt about you? And why on earth would you try to make me love you knowing full well that we could never be married?"

"I wanted to make you love me because I intended to marry you."

Shocked, Jane exclaimed, "_You intended to marry me_? How would that be possible?"

"I already told you – as far as I was concerned Bertha was not my true wife, so I was free to be with whomever I wanted. I never meant to deceive you Jane, but … I knew how you had been raised. I knew that you would never consent to live with me, unmarried, so I determined to marry you in a church, then take you to Europe, where we could lose ourselves and no one would know my past or who we were. You would be my wife and I would devote myself to you and your happiness. Well, I intended to propose to you when you returned from Gateshead, but then you were offered that damned job and you did not return home. When I received your letter of resignation … God, I nearly went mad. How could you leave me in that way? As soon as I could I went to Gateshead with the intention of begging you to marry me, but Wilson told me you were in London to receive your inheritance. It was at that moment that I began to realize the full import of what I had planned. If I married you now that you were an heiress, there was a strong possibility that Richard Mason would hear about our wedding, track us down and have me charged with bigamy. I could not bear to think of exposing you to such infamy and I knew you would never forgive me for doing so. See, Jane, when you were with me at Thornfield, you were an orphan, alone and unloved, and I had convinced myself that by marrying you I was doing something good, noble even, because you were alone in the world and as your husband I would love you, provide for you, be your protector. However, now you had found family and friends and you were wealthy as well, so you no longer needed my protection, and I realized just how destructive and wrong my plans were. So I left you at Gateshead, sent Adele to school and then left England forever. I intended on spending the rest of my life at a little villa I have in the south of France, trying to somehow live without you, my love. But then Bertha killed herself burning down Thornfield and freed me once and for all. Now I can marry you Jane; now we can be married openly and legally."

Edward reached out and took Jane's hands in both of his and tried to look into her eyes, but Jane averted her face. Speaking tenderly, he said, "Jane, my sweet darling girl, I love you more than words can express. How can I explain how I feel so that you will understand … well, I have a curious feeling with regard to you, when I'm with you as I am now. It's as if my heart were tied to yours with an invisible cord. When you left Thornfield, when I believed I had lost you forever, I felt that cord begin to break and I felt as if my heart was literally being ripped apart. All these months that we have been apart … how I have longed for you, my darling Jane, how my heart has ached for you.

"Jane, I was very wrong to try to deceive you, but I love you so much that I became desperate and came up with a desperate plan . Can you ever forgive me, Jane? Can you ever love me?"

Visibly trembling, Jane remained silent, her eyes cast downwards.

As Jane still refused to look at him, Edward released her hands and cupping her face in his made her look at him. In a whisper he pleaded with her, "Please answer me, Jane. Can you ever forgive me for deceiving you?"

Jane pulled herself from him and, in a firm, angry voice replied, "Sir, I hardly know what to say. I cannot believe that you plotted to marry me knowing that it was not legal. I just want you to leave me now. Please, please leave."

Alarmed by her anger, Edward quickly begged, "Please Jane, please tell me you can forgive me. And please stop calling me "sir," call me by my name, call me Edward."

Ignoring his request, Jane rose, walked to the door of the parlor, opened it and with both her hands on the doorknob for support, leaned her forehead against the door. "Sir, please do as I asked and leave now."

Edward quickly rose from his chair, frantic at Jane's refusal to speak to him. "Jane, talk to me, just for a moment, just answer me, then I'll go if you still wish me to. Tell me how you feel, if you even care for me at all. Or do you hate me now that you know the truth?" He paused, and when Jane failed to respond or even look at him, he continued even more desperately. "I don't expect you to love me or to accept me now, but if you could at least _think_ about my proposal Jane. I love you so very much; I'll wait for as long as it takes for you to grow to love me, only please tell me that you will at least think about what I have said."

"Sir, I want you to leave now, right now," Jane coldly replied, again ignoring his request.

"_Jane, please_," Edward pleaded. He then paused for several moments, breathing deeply in an effort to control himself, his fists clenched tightly. When he finally spoke again his voice was flat and unemotional. "Yes, I understand. I've shocked you with the disgusting details of my marriage to Bertha and how I plotted to ensnare you in a fraudulent union. You must think I'm some profligate rake who roams the world searching for young, innocent girls to debauch, not a man who has searched his whole life for someone to love, a man who sincerely and deeply loves you. Well, I'm not going to trouble you any further. I'm staying at the inn in the village. If you want to see me, please send a message to me there. I swear that I will not come back here to bother you with my demands. I'll come only if you ask me to. If I don't hear from you by tomorrow evening, I'll assume that you don't want to see me again and I will return to London."

Edward picked up his hat and coat, walked to the door and stopping before her looked down at Jane, an anguished expression on his face. Jane finally looked up at him and as their eyes met he saw that she was crying. Stifling her sobs, Jane remained silent. After a few moments Edward finally broke the silence and speaking softly said, "I'll see myself out Jane. Goodbye, my …." Unable to finish, he quickly strode out of the room. A few moments later Jane heard the front door open, then firmly close.


	12. Chapter 10: A Long Night at an Inn

**Chapter 10 – A Long Night at an Inn**

_Edward stared glumly out the window of his room at the inn, his eyes unseeing, his mind fixed on two alternating thoughts. Would she come? And, how could he go on if she did not? He had suffered such intense despair all those months when he believed he could never be with Jane, but to find himself finally free of Bertha, finally able to approach Jane honestly and openly, only to have her reject his love … how could he survive losing her for a second, final, time? He tried to remain hopeful – perhaps he had gotten through to her, perhaps she did love him at least enough to give him a chance, perhaps even now she was on her way to the inn to tell him yes, yes, she did love him, yes she would marry him, yes she would always be his. But then he remembered the look of horror on her face when he finally confessed and told her all, and his heart sank. No. She would not come. She was too repulsed by the truth of what he was and what he had done. If she had ever felt anything at all for him he had killed it by telling her the truth. She would not come and it was over for him._

_Edward turned away from the window and slowly walked through the room. What was the point in staying here any longer? Of course Jane would never come to give him her answer, to tell him she loved him and would be his. He was a fool to believe that she could ever love him. Of course she had never loved him, would never love him. No one ever had. No. He would not stay. He would tell the innkeeper he was leaving, pay his bill and then come upstairs, pack up his belongings and take the next coach to London._

_Just then there was a low, tentative knock at the door._

_Startled, he quickly walked to the door and flung it open._

_There she was. His Jane. _

_Edward just stood there, afraid to move, afraid to speak. All he could do was just stare at Jane. Her cheeks were rosy both from the walk in the cold and the intensity of her emotions. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears._

_They just stared at each other for several long moments. Finally he spoke, his voice trembling slightly. "Jane! I … I … I'm so glad you've come. Please, come by the fire and get warm."_

_She entered, silently, and walked towards the fireplace. Edward closed the door then turned and watched, transfixed, as she removed her gloves and bonnet and placed them on the table. Next she took off her coat and draped it on the back of a chair. Still silent, Jane stood before the fire, looking down at the flames, her hands outstretched. After a few minutes of silence, with the crackling of the burning wood the only sound in the room, Jane turned to face him._

_He held his breath. What had she come to say?_

_Finally Jane spoke. In a low, shy voice she said, "Sir, I've come to tell you what I've decided."_

_Torn between hope and fear Edward blurted out, "Jane, please, for God's sake, call me Edward. At least this once."_

_Jane hesitated, a smile forming on her lips. "If you insist, sir, I mean … Edward." She blushed intensely and then in a voice so low he had to strain to hear her, whispered, "Edward, I've come to tell you that I accept your proposal. Yes, I will marry you."_

_At first Edward was too shocked, too overwhelmed with joy to react. Then he rushed towards Jane and swept her up in his arms. Holding her tightly he whispered, "Jane! Jane! You have made me the happiest man in the world. Oh Jane, I love you so."_

_He pulled back a bit so he could see her face for a moment, then he closed his eyes and kissed her, slowly and gently brushing his lips against hers. At first Jane didn't respond, then as she began to kiss him back, her hands moved up his chest to his shoulders. Then, suddenly, she gently but firmly pushed him away, breaking their kiss. Immediately he opened his eyes, breathing quickly and heavily, and looked at her questioningly and a little afraid, wondering why she had stopped. When he opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, Jane surprised him by reaching up and lightly laying the fingers of her right hand on his lips, silencing him. Then she placed her hands on his face and gently stroked his cheeks. Unable to move, his heart pounding so hard it made it difficult for him to breathe, Edward just looked down at her, waiting. Looking intently into his eyes, she smiled and said, "Oh, Edward, I love you so very much and I have loved you for such a very long time. I love you with all my heart. My whole heart belongs to you. I belong to you, my love. You and only you. Always." Then she pulled his head down towards her and gently, sweetly, kissed his mouth. Thrilled and deeply moved, Edward held her even more tightly than before, relishing the sensation of feeling her slender body pressed against his, and kissed her fervently. Then Jane opened her mouth and as he gently eased his tongue inside he felt such an overwhelming surge of love and joy that he momentarily feared he might faint. Finally. Finally. Jane loved him, wanted him. They would be married as soon as possible and then she would be finally, completely, absolutely and always his and his alone._

_Suddenly there was a loud crash …_

Edward jerked awake. The glass had fallen out of his hand and crashed, breaking, on the floor, splashing port on the cuffs of his trousers and his shoes. Disoriented, he sat up straight and looked around. He was sitting in the chair before the fire, which had burned down low. All the candles had gone out and the room was very dark. Taking deep breaths as he waited for his furiously pounding heart to normalize its beat, he rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. Suddenly cold, he stood up, stretched and walked the few steps to the grate. Edward placed some wood on the fire, tended it, then when the fire had come back to life he lit a candle. The normally noisy inn was silent, so he knew that it was long past midnight.

Completely depressed, Edward began to slowly remove his clothes. He had waited all afternoon, then all evening for Jane, alternating between hope and despair. He had spent the hours pacing back and forth in his room, then going downstairs to pace directly in front of the inn, afraid to go far because he might miss Jane, then coming back up to pace some more, looking out of the window constantly. After he had come downstairs for the tenth time the innkeeper began to look at him as though he thought Edward were insane. But he didn't care. He was in such a fever of nervous anticipation and anxiety he had to do something; it was impossible for him to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. His appetite gone, Edward had eaten nothing all day.

As the hours slowly crept by he had become more and more despondent. He couldn't stop replaying his conversation with Jane in his mind, and as he remembered how horrified Jane had looked as he told her first about Bertha and then about his insane plan to marry her, he began to lose the little hope he had been desperately clinging to all day. Even so, when night fell and it was obvious that Jane would not come, Edward was still reluctant to go to bed for fear that Jane might arrive at any moment to give him her answer. So he had stayed up, dressed, until past midnight, until he had finally fallen asleep from exhaustion.

As he lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, intensely miserable, he thought about his dream. It had been so intense, so real, that he could hardly believe it had not actually taken place, that Jane had not come, that he had not held her in his arms and felt her heart beating fast and strong against his as they kissed, as she told him that she loved him and would be his. As he replayed his dream he experienced such an intense longing for Jane, for her presence, for the sound of her voice, for her touch, that he could hardly breathe. Anguished, he wondered how he was going to bear going through the rest of his life without her.


	13. Chapter 11: Jane's Decision

**Chapter 11 – Jane's Decision**

Edward stared at his reflection in the mirror as he began to arrange his cravat. He looked old, tired and inexpressibly sad. He had slept very little, having finally fallen into a fitful, dreamless sleep just before dawn. It was now about 8:30 in the morning and he was exhausted. Heartbroken, Edward had completely lost hope that Jane would come to him and had forced himself to accept that she was out of his life forever. As he debated whether to remain at the inn until the evening as he had told Jane he would or to leave on the next coach to London, he heard a brisk knock at the door. Surprised, Edward quickly walked to the door and opened it to find one of the maids standing there.

Even though he had not dared hope that it would be Jane, seeing the servant caused him to feel a fresh surge of disappointment and despair. "What is it?" he asked brusquely.

"Pardon me, sir, but there's a young lady downstairs, a Miss Eyre, who wishes to see you."

Stunned, Edward paused for a moment, then hurriedly told the maid to have Miss Eyre wait in one of the small, private dining rooms and to tell her that he would be down directly. He returned to the mirror to finish dressing and after assuring himself that he was neat and presentable he left his room. As he approached the front desk, the innkeeper told him which room Jane was in. Quickly, Edward turned and walked towards the private room, but then he stopped and stood before the closed door, momentarily unable to continue. He was trembling and breathing fast, both thrilled at seeing Jane again and terrified that she might have come merely to tell him she would not marry him. Once he felt he was sufficiently composed, he reached out, turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

He immediately saw Jane standing before the fire, looking down at the flames, warming her outstretched hands. Her coat was draped on the back of a chair, her gloves and bonnet on the table.

Edward entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Transfixed, afraid to speak, he watched her. After a few moments of silence, with the crackling of the burning wood the only sound in the room, Jane turned to face him.

He held his breath. What had she come to say?

They looked at each other for a few moments, then finally Jane spoke. In a low, shy voice she said, "Mr. Rochester, I've come to tell you what I have decided."

Torn between hope and fear Edward blurted out, "Jane, please, for God's sake, call me Edward. At least this once."

Jane hesitated, a smile forming on her lips. "If you insist, sir, I mean … Edward." She blushed intensely and then in a voice so low he had to strain to hear her, whispered, "Edward, I've come to tell you that I accept your proposal. Yes, I will marry you."

At first Edward was too shocked, too overwhelmed with joy to react. Then he rushed towards Jane and swept her up in his arms. Holding her tightly he whispered, "Jane! Jane! You have made me the happiest man in the world. Oh Jane, I love you so. But Jane," he said as he released her and held her face in his hands so he could look in her eyes, "tell me that you love me. Please. I need to hear you say the words. And my name. Say my name again."

Blushing and laughing Jane said, "I love you. I love you, Edward, and I have loved you for a very long time. I love you with my whole heart. You and only you."

Elated, Edward began to kiss Jane, but she turned her head, stopping him. Astonished, Edward exclaimed, "Jane, what's wrong? Why do you turn from me?"

Now serious, Jane said, "There's something more I must say to you."

Suddenly afraid, Edward interrupted, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I want to beg you to forgive me."

"What? _You_ want _my_ forgiveness? What on earth for, Jane?"

"Please forgive me, sir, I mean _Edward_, for keeping you in suspense. I never intended to keep you waiting so long for my answer. But I was so overwhelmed by your confession of your love and your marriage that, when I was a little more composed I went to Hannah and told her I had a headache and needed to lie down, which was true. Then I went to my room and cried until I … until I fell asleep. Believing I was ill they let me sleep until I woke up and by then it was too late and too dark for me to come and see you. You do believe me, don't you? It was never my intention to torture you …"

Edward quickly interrupted her. "Hush, sweetheart, please. It is _I_ who should beg _you_ for forgiveness after all my lies and deceit. You have done nothing wrong, Jane. In fact, I don't believe you could ever do anything wrong, you are so good, so sweet, so kind. There is absolutely nothing to forgive. I am just so very happy that you have been able to forgive _me_ and that you love me and accept my proposal. I want to marry you without delay, my love. I cannot wait any longer to be your husband."

Once again he lowered his head and gently, sweetly, kissed her mouth. As Jane began to respond to his kiss he released her face and put his arms around her. Edward held her even more tightly than before, relishing the sensation of feeling her slender body pressed against his, and kissed her fervently. Breathless and beginning to feel unsteady, he stopped, led Jane to one of the chairs and then sat down himself, still holding her hand, afraid to let her go for fear she would disappear, afraid that this was just another one of his dreams.

Suddenly famished, he asked, "Jane, have you had anything to eat yet?"

Surprised at the change in the conversation, Jane replied slowly, "No, Edward, I was so afraid that you might have gone back to London after I failed to come see you yesterday, that I left Moor House as soon as I was dressed."

"Then you will have breakfast here, with me. I insist. Don't you dare move! Just wait a moment while I order it."

Squeezing her hand and kissing her quickly, Edward reluctantly left the room.

Returning almost immediately, Edward resumed his seat, took both Jane's hands in his and said in a mock serious tone, "The food will be here shortly and in the meantime, Miss Eyre, you will answer my questions. There's something very important I need to know."

Jane looked at him warily. "What is it?"

"I need to know when you realized that you loved me. When exactly was it? And also, why did you fall in love with me? What made you love me?"

Jane laughed. "When? I realized I loved you after the fire in your room. As for why … there was no single reason why. As we spoke all those evenings you called me to join you after dinner, and as I came to know you, I found myself drawn to you more and more, but I wasn't aware that I had fallen in love with you until the morning after the fire, after you had left Thornfield and I was afraid I would never see you again."

Surprised, Edward exclaimed, "Really, Jane? Is that really true? You loved me as far back as that? So, while I was falling in love with you, you were falling in love with me also? I am so very sorry, but I had no idea. If only I had known, guessed even, I never would have …"

"You never would have what?"

Edward paused. "I'm afraid to mention this again, since it might rightly make you hate me which is absolutely the last thing I want to do, but if I had had even the slightest inkling of how you felt about me, I never would have held that ghastly house party. As I told you yesterday, it was all a part of my insane plan to make you fall in love with me. I realize now how much I must have hurt you, parading around with Blanche, but you seemed so cold, so distant, so self-contained, and I was sure you felt nothing for me but the loyalty you owed me as your master. I was so desperate to get some kind of reaction out of you I was willing to try anything, including making you jealous, but you appeared as unemotional as a rock."

"Yes, I hid my feelings from you, Edward. I had to! I had no choice. How could I believe that _you_, a man so much older than I am, a man in your position, with your wealth, education and social standing, could ever love _me_, a penniless orphan, a governess, a nobody? And then while you were away at the Leas, Mrs. Fairfax told me all about you and Blanche and how it was assumed by everyone who knew you both that you would soon marry. How could I not believe that she spoke the truth? Mrs. Fairfax had no idea of my feelings for you, and why would she lie? I realized that of course you would marry Blanche, and of course you could never love me. I was crushed, but I resolved to train myself to hide my love for you, and I spent those weeks that you were at the Leas telling myself that you could never love me and that I must do whatever I could to kill my love for you. I considered leaving Thornfield under some pretext and I even went so far as to paint a portrait of Blanche from Mrs. Fairfax's description to compare it to a sketch of myself to reinforce how unequal I was to her, how you could never choose me over her …" Jane stopped, overwhelmed by the memory of those painful weeks, momentarily unable to continue.

"And then I returned with Blanche and forced you to watch me flirt with her. I am so sorry, Jane. I hurt you so much, when all I wanted was to marry you, to love you and care for you. What I should have done was to have been open with you, told you how I felt and asked you if you could love me in return. But I knew I could not be truly open with you, because I was not free to marry you and you would never consent to live with me unmarried. I knew you too well. I knew you were too moral for that. But I was desperate for your love, even though I had no right to even look at you. Jane, I don't think you really understand what torture it was to me to have finally found you, a woman I could truly love, and to live under the same roof with you, to see you and speak with you every day, and yet to not be able to touch you, kiss you, love you … that's why I came up with my insane plan to commit bigamy. I knew it was wrong, but I was determined to have you even if it meant breaking the laws of God and man. And when I allow myself to think of how, if I had succeeded in winning your love and marrying you back then, I would have destroyed you, I am truly horrified. God, what a selfish fool I was." Edward paused, then exclaimed, "And that is why you didn't return from Gateshead! Because you wanted to get away from me!"

"Yes, that is why I took the teaching job Mr. Wilson offered me. It was perfect. I could not bear the thought of returning to Thornfield, only to see you marry Blanche and have you send me off to who knows where. I was resolved to conquer my feelings for you, and I hoped that if I left and never saw you again I would eventually stop loving you."

"But you were unsuccessful, thank God," Edward sighed.

"Yes, I was unsuccessful. I love you as much today as I did the morning after the fire. I never will stop loving you, Edward. God knows I have tried and failed," Jane laughed.

"And I will always love you, Jane. All these months, when I thought I would never be able to marry you … I can't even describe the despair I felt. But now … you have made me so very happy, Jane. And I will spend the rest of my life loving you, caring for you, making sure you are always happy and content."

Jane flushed and smiled shyly. Edward reached out and cupped her face with his right hand, gently stroking her lips with his thumb. Closing her eyes, Jane leaned into his hand. As he felt the pulse in her neck quicken at his touch he experienced a powerful surge of love and desire. No, he couldn't wait much longer to make her his.

Swallowing hard, Edward spoke hoarsely, "Jane we must be married as soon as possible. Is there a clergyman here who can perform the ceremony? And we need a license."

Jane's eyes flew open. "St. John!"

"Excuse me?"

"My cousin St. John Rivers is the clergyman at Morton. He can perform the ceremony. And then Mary and Diana and Hannah can attend! I really want them to be there."

Just then several servants entered the room, bearing covered dishes, plates, cups, cutlery and pitchers of coffee and milk. Jane and Edward remained silent as the table was set. After they left, Edward began lifting the covers off the serving dishes.

"The ham and eggs look wonderful, Jane. And buttered toast and hot coffee! No, Jane, I will serve you, so sit still," Edward stated as Jane reached for a plate. "God, I can't believe how hungry I am!" Edward continued. "Oh, yes, of course, I remember, I ate nothing yesterday …"

"Why did you eat nothing yesterday?" Jane interrupted.

"Because I was too anxious waiting for your arrival, my love, and lost my appetite completely."

"Oh, Edward! I am so sorry …"

"Jane, please, for the last time, stop apologizing."

Having served first Jane and then himself, Edward began eating. There was silence for several minutes as they ate, then Edward asked Jane, "You think your cousin will agree to marry us?"

"I don't think there should be a problem. I don't know what his schedule is at Morton, but we should be able to work something out."

"Good. I will go to see him as soon as we finish breakfast and arrange everything. Oh, wait a moment, we need to buy clothes for you, so we'll do that first, and then I'll see Mr. Rivers."

"Clothes for me? Why do you want to buy clothes for me?"

"Jane, as soon as we're married, we are traveling to London, then straight to the continent. You'll need some new clothes. You'll be Mrs. Rochester now, and I won't allow you to wear those dresses you wore when you were a governess. Although, when we reach Paris, I'll take you to all the best shops, but you will need some dresses and shoes and bonnets and a new coat until then."

"Edward, I have more than enough clothes. After I received my inheritance, I bought some new things. We just have to go to my cottage first and pack them up."

"That's right! I forgot that you inherited money from an uncle! I don't know how I possibly could have forgotten that. It's not as if I could ever forget that dreadful trip I took to Gateshead to see you after I received your letter of resignation. Jane, although I have traveled the world over, it really felt like the longest trip I have ever taken in my life, I was in such a state. I simply could not believe that you had left me and I was determined to make you come back home to Thornfield with me, but then, as I knocked on the door of your cottage, a little girl skipped by and told me that you had gone to London. So, instead of seeing you, my love, I found myself talking to your friend Mr. Wilson. God, that was awful. That's when I first realized that you were forever out of my reach. Up until that moment I had thought I knew what it was to feel despair, but I have never felt so hopeless as I did then. And as if that wasn't bad enough, I also was so jealous of Wilson, I still don't know how I managed to leave his office without striking him."

Jane stopped eating and stared at Edward, shocked. "You were so jealous of Mr. Wilson _you wanted to strike him_? Edward! Why? What had he done? You didn't even know him!"

Edward put down his knife and fork and looked at Jane sadly. "Why, Jane? _Because I had been replaced_. I had been replaced and, what was worse, I had been replaced by a younger, handsomer man. Wilson was your new friend and protector, and you no longer needed me for anything. After all, he was the one who gave you a new position and a new home, making it possible for you to leave me. And you confided in him about your uncle, but you never wrote to tell me anything. I had been under the impression that, even if you didn't love me, you at least trusted me and valued my opinion and friendship and would tell me of such a momentous change in your circumstances. But no, I had to hear it from a complete stranger. And another thing – you gave him one of your paintings as a gift, but you never gave me anything at all. I loved you to distraction, Jane, but you never thought of me and instead you turned to another man. I felt such intense pain I thought I might actually die of it."

Jane reached out and took one of Edward's hands. Grasping it tightly with both of hers, she said, "Oh, Edward, please believe me that I never meant to hurt you. I didn't write to tell you about my uncle because I didn't believe you would be interested. I was just one of your servants, so why would you want to hear about my new life? And as for my paintings, I just never thought of giving you one because … well, because I believed that I was nothing to you, so why would you want anything from me? I owed Mr. Wilson a gift in appreciation for all he had done for me, and the best thing I could give him was one of my paintings. But that is all there was to it. It was just a gift to show my appreciation, and nothing more. But I promise that I will now give you as many paintings as you wish."

Edward smiled. "Really? You promise? Even if I demand that you give me one each day?"

Jane laughed. "Well, I don't know how good they will be if I have to paint them so quickly, but yes, Edward, I will give you whatever you want. I promise."

"Janet, this is like a dream. I keep expecting to wake up at any moment, cold and alone and heartbroken. I cannot believe that I am finally sitting here with you, sweetheart, having breakfast and planning our future. I can't wait until we begin our new life together."

"Speaking of our new life together, since Thornfield is gone, where will we live?"

"Well, let's see" Edward began as he drank his coffee. "I bought a house in a nice part of London after Thornfield was destroyed, so we can live there part of the year. I also have a villa in the south of France that I really want you to see. That's where I went when I believed that I would never see you again. It's on the Mediterranean and it's beautiful. You will love it and I'm sure you will be inspired to paint there. In fact, I want us to spend some time there on our wedding trip. I do have that other place in the country, Ferndean, but we will not live there, as it is deep in the woods and too damp and unhealthy for children."

Jane blushed at his mention of children, then asked, "Have you considered rebuilding Thornfield?"

"No, not really. I could build somewhere else on the property, but for me there are too many unhappy memories associated with Thornfield. I've no wish to recreate it. And in any case, the cost would be prohibitive. I suppose I should consider building a small house elsewhere on the grounds so we would have a place to stay when I need to visit the property and see my tenants. Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll write to my solicitors and ask them to find an architect and together, Jane, we can design a home. I will expect you to give me your assistance, since you are such a clever artist."

"I am afraid I am not quite such an artist as you seem to believe, Edward, but of course, I will do all I can to help."

"Nonsense, Jane. I've seen your work. You are an artist, a very good one in fact, and I intend to rely upon your opinion, so enough of this modesty."

"Yes, sir," Jane said, trying not to laugh.

Feigning anger, Edward exclaimed, "Excuse me, Jane? I'm "sir" now?"

"Yes, sir, you are "sir" when you talk to me like you are the master."

"Jane, you know me. You know I love you, but I can't help being a little, well, masterful. It's the way I was raised. But I hope you know I would never hurt you?"

"Of course I know that, Edward! I was only teasing you," Jane laughed.

"It's so good to hear you laugh, Jane. You were always so quiet and reserved at Thornfield. I knew that you were quiet because of your position in the household and also because you had had such a painful childhood, and when I fell in love with you all I wanted was to make you happy and hear you laugh. I promise you, Jane, that I will do everything in my power to make you happy and to make up for all the sadness you have had to endure."

Deeply moved, Jane surprised Edward by leaning towards him and kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you, Edward. I am sure I will be very happy with you."

Edward paused for a few moments and just looked lovingly at Jane and then continued, "Well, Jane, if you have finished eating, I suggest you go back to Moor House and wait for me there. I will take care of arranging our wedding and come see you. Is that all right, or do you need to do anything in town?"

"No, that's fine. I guess I'll see you later, then." Jane rose and began to put on her coat.

"What! Are you quitting me already, and in that way?" Edward exclaimed as he rose from the table.

"You said I might go, sir," Jane replied, remembering the first time she had heard these words.

"But not without taking leave; not without a word or two of acknowledgment and good will: not, in short, in that brief, dry fashion. At least shake hands," Edward said, holding out his hand and taking Jane's hand, first in one, then in both his own.

"And this is what I wanted to do that night, after you saved my life," Edward murmured as he pulled Jane into his arms and began kissing her.


End file.
